Riding Towards Sunset: ARC 1 Winds of Change
by Mr DCWood
Summary: 1818, Santa Helena. 1 year after the marshall law was repealed, reinforcements arrive from Spain. The most prominent of which is Sergeant Lionel Williams, who is ideal for Montoya's latest scheme to eliminate the Queen. The status quo is about to change.
1. New Arrival

_Disclaimer: Queen of Swords was created by Fireworks Entertainment, and is owned by ContentFilm. This story is NOT affiliated with the rights holders or the show's original creators. No infringement is intended and no profit is being made. This story is for entertainment purposes only._

_The author would like to thank Robert Vincent for all his valuable support and input._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 1: New Arrival<strong>

_Journal of Sergeant Lionel Williams, entry 2,098. _

_June 3rd 1818._

_When you live through the hell I've been forced to endure and inflict; war, death, betrayal - all that horrible stuff that makes God shake his head over what his children have become - you jump at the chance for change if opportunity comes knocking on your door. Without question._

_Maybe it's because you want to try and wash all that blood off your hands. To try and atone for your sins by cutting down the number of bodies that you rack up._

_Or maybe…it's simply because you're hoping for what you've always wanted. A nice little abode for your family._

_That's what I'm hoping for right now._

_After losing family, friends and colleagues - more times than I care to count - suffering betrayal after betrayal, fighting corruption, bandits and Napoleon, I'm heading off to California as per the terms of the transfer. Would have loved to gone back to the good old U.S. of A, being honest. I loved Spain, I always have. And California is Spanish domain, so I'm sure I'll love it just as much. But America was where I was born. And personally speaking, I really could've done with going home, my true home._

_Of course, I'm being far too sentimental. It's clouding my duty. Still got a job to do. Cancers of all kind to exorcise. I'm heading to a little town called Santa Helena, reported to be plagued by notorious corruption and crime. The stench of those things can never escape my nose, it would seem. No matter how hard I try._

_Still, it IS a fresh start. That's what I was asking for and that's what my superiors gave to me after all my work. The governor of Santa Helena, Colonel Luis Montoya, is always on the lookout for more soldiers apparently, so I'm taking a platoon of hand-chosen men with me. Good, honest men who fought besides me and that I can trust with my life. Besides, smaller town means less fighting, less trouble and MAYBE a shot at quiet life._

_Which for a soldier, that's all you can hope for. If you live long enough._

_My wife, Maria…I see her look out to sea, her radiant ginger hair blowing, her beautiful face smiling as it welcomes the breeze. Those emerald eyes twinkling magically, even in the day. She got behind me the moment the chance came. Like me, she longed for a fresh start, just as much as I. New possibilities, new horizons, less chance for worrying…_

_More of a sane world for our daughter Theresa to grow up in._

_All throughout our voyage, I've seen her sing pirate songs, dance along the deck, and shout 'Wow! Mommy! Daddy! Look!' every time she saw a dolphin jump out of the surface of the water. Six years old and this is the first time ever she's going abroad._

_Her very first adventure…and my little girl has never been so excited._

_Good._

_One of the few things left in the world that makes me smile._

_Maria had to be both mother and father while I was on the frontline. Whilst I was sacrificing nearly all of my heart and soul to stop the devil…my little girl had to cry herself to sleep wanting her dad. Another reason why the move to Santa Helena was such a good idea. She gets to see the world at long last, see if it's anything like her imagination painted out._

_My gift to you, sweetheart._

_Small town, small army. New life, new horizons. Not gonna be all fun and games, obviously. I'm still a soldier. But after Napoleon…what could be so bad about this Santa Helena?_

"_LAND AHOY!" I've just heard from the crow's nest._

_The words of beginning._

"_Land Ahoy!"_

_End of entry._

* * *

><p>On the offshore of California, the ship came into view. The sun continued to shine beautifully, it's radiant light glistening on the surface of the sea. The breeze was cool and refreshing. The vessel looked truly magnificent and proud, bathed in the sun with its sails swelling in the wind. It advanced far away from the horizon's edge and drew ever closer to its destination. To a romantic, poetic man…it could herald the arrival of a grand hero.<p>

But Captain Marcus Grisham…was as far from romantic and poetic as you could get.

He and his men had sat on their horses for half an hour, bored out of their minds and awaiting for the ship to arrive. As soon as Grisham had seen it come into view, drop anchor and the longboats head for land, he'd ordered his soldiers present to standby and receive. Obviously always better to let the grunts do the dirty work.

Grisham was bored out of his mind. Failing to stop the Queen of Swords during Montoya's latest extortion scheme, one that had been crucially important, had booted him out of the colonel's 'good books' (for the lack of a more accurate assessment of their relationship). For several weeks, the captain had experienced no more exciting action on the front lines, no more delightful manhunts or murders. Just demeaning tax collections (where all the people simply paid upon visit and that was that), escort duty and picking up Montoya's laundry.

And just when he thought he couldn't sink any lower, the Captain was now welcoming - what he personally viewed - a _mere sergeant_, with more grunts from Spain.

_Whoopee-de-do, _grunted Grisham. _More brainless monkeys with glass jaws. The Queen's REALLY had it now._

The captain of the guard then looked at Sergeant Williams, his family and his men disembark from the boats. Grisham's men helped secure things and unload, with Lionel shouting orders to help them get the supplies and weapons out of the boats and into the wagons, assigning different men to haul and carry the barrels, weapons and rations. Williams then helped his wife and daughter step off onto land, before turning back to help one of his men get a keg of gunpowder off the boat and into the arms of another soldier, who subsequently took it to one of the wagons ready for transport.

_Ah, well…_thought Grisham, eyebrows raised in his attempt to try and salvage _some _fun out of this dreary labour. _He IS an American. Should be a hoot._

He shook the reins, commanding his horse to ride on to greet the new sergeant. Williams helped another of his troops load his personal trunk onto a wagon, then turned to meet his commanding officer for the first time. Maria was standing with Theresa, out of everyone's way and just amazed to be here.

Grisham took a moment to observe the sergeant. He was quite tall and well-built. Slightly taller than the captain and with short brown hair, a small quiff at the front and quite tufted at the back, like it could be grown into a ponytail. He had a well-trimmed goatee, soulless grey eyes, short, proper nose and a face that had seen all the horrors of war and had both been scarred and toughened by them.

"Captain Marcus Grisham," saluted Lionel as he stood to attention, "Sergeant Lionel Williams reporting for duty, sir."

"Well, that's really pleasing to know," dismissed the captain, making it no secret how he couldn't care less. Noting the small number of new soldiers now conversing with those of Santa Helena, Grisham scoffed, "This all you brought with you?"

"All that could be _spared_, captain," Williams replied bluntly, deciding instantly that he disliked the lazy, whinging superior. "I believe the term is, 'eat it and like it'."

Grisham narrowed his eyes at the sergeant and cocked his head to one side. Through an icy voice, he replied back condescendingly, "Is that mouthing off to a superior officer…_sergeant_?"

"Just telling it like is, sir. Don't want to insult your _intelligence_."

Grisham stared at Williams icily for a few seconds. Maria fought the urge to kick her husband. That mouth of his had gotten them into trouble too many times. Eventually, though, the captain just burst into laughter.

"You've got brains and balls, Williams," nodded Grisham after settling down. "I like that."

Turning to see the confused little girl about to question what he meant, Grisham said to Maria, "Sorry, ma'am. Shouldn't swear in front of kiddies, I know. I blame my parents for that. Captain Grisham at your service."

"Charmed," nodded Maria, trying very hard _not _to make her return smile come across as false.

"My men will escort you and your daughter safely to your new home in the town," informed the captain, eyeing her as though he wanted to sleep with her. Then turning his attention back to Williams, he said, "Sergeant, your men will be taken for briefing and initiation. You're to ride with me to Colonel Montoya's Office."

"Right away, sir," nodded Lionel affirmatively, keeping his observation of Grisham's subtle eyeing up of Maria separate and buried under professionalism. He picked up his sack and rifle and turned to kiss his wife and daughter goodbye, promising to see them later. Lionel informed his battalion their instructions, then turned to mount himself and his belongings on the horse that was ready for him.

"Welcome to Santa Helena, eh, captain?" asked Williams, striking up conversation for no real reason.

"Oh, I think you're gonna like it here," grinned Grisham, thinking the new arrival could bring something refreshing along, aside from a lovely wife.

The two soldiers left their men to their own business as they rode off from the beach and into town with all haste.

As Maria and her daughter got onto a wagon to be taken to their new home…she knew from the way Grisham had glanced at her…that at the very _least_, she was going to have to fight off a foul-mouthed womaniser.

Not the kind of influence little girls should be exposed to upon entering a new world.

* * *

><p>In the marketplace of Santa Helena, it was all busy, happy normal life for the townsfolk. Well, as normal as it could be whenever the corrupt governor wasn't oppressing his people. The beautiful intensity of the sunlight continued to shine down on the happy citizens who were just going about their lives, relishing in the latest fleeting opportunity to have peace. Trading, shopping, walking and talking, family and friends just thankful for being allowed to live.<p>

Most people wanted to experience this paradise forever. Living an existence without fear of being attacked or worse.

Tessa Alvarado was certainly appreciating it right now.

"Honestly, Marta," she laughed, as the two smiling friends, baskets full of purchased foods and spices made their way round the various, buzzing stalls. "Just because I dream of dazzling swordplay and dashing heroes doesn't mean I can't appreciate…"

"Quiet time?" was the term the gypsy servant suggested.

"Really, Marta." Tessa nodded her head to random spots around them. "What's so 'quiet' about people just going about their business and being happy to do it?"

"Even in quiet, there is always _something _going on," conceded Marta, as they stopped at the next fruit stall. As she picked three of the best oranges from to purchase, the gypsy continued, "But even when things are hectic, there's always peace to be found and appreciated."

"And sometimes it can be appreciated by all," the aristocrat smiled. "Even by those…who yearn for something a little different."

"Or those who think they've earned a _break_, maybe?" Marta asked as she handed over coins for the oranges.

"Maybe."

Tessa then turned to the barrel containing the apples. She certainly could do with one right now. The aristocrat once again reached out for the fruit resting right on top of the pile…only this time, she didn't fail to grab it before Doctor Helm could snatch it, or snatch it before he could grab it.

This time, their hands touched the apple - and each other - at exactly the same time.

The noblewoman and the Englishman looked up at one another and simultaneously recoiled, both trying too hard to hide their embarrassment and regain some kind of false stature.

"Sorry, Doctor, where are my manners? I…"

"No, no, Senorita, by all means…"

They both just paused, cleared their throats, put on smiles of common sense, and simultaneously helped themselves to an apple each. A silent, smiling Marta (who had obviously observed the whole thing), walked up to Tessa's side to break the needlessly awkward moment.

"Doctor," she greeted cheerfully.

"Senorita," nodded Helm as both he and Tessa paid at the same time.

"So how are you?"

"Same as everyone else. Enjoying life for the moment."

The threesome proceeded to move out from the crowd and onto the open streets, chatting about recent events, such as the Queen's most recent exploit. Bandits had recently attempted to rob the church and its father, Padre Quintera, who had recently organised a huge fiesta for charity. Several members of the aristocracy (including Tessa) had donated for the event, to help the poor. The Queen had saved the Padre's life and other hostages from the bandits, as well as protecting the church and the money to help the cause.

"It's bizarre how it all coincided with the Colonel's recent…financial difficulty," remarked Tessa, feigning the inability to put two and two together.

"Yes, _very _bizarre," nodded the doctor, smirking slightly.

"We should all be thankful that the Queen was there to ensure no one was hurt," came in Marta. "And that the fiesta will hopefully be allowed to go off as God intended."

"Indeed so. Still, with our 'esteemed' governor too busy _sulking_ at the moment, we shouldn't have much to worry about."

"Really, Doctor!" exclaimed Tessa, pretending to be shocked. "It's not at all like you to be so harsh and insulting!"

Helm fought the urge to groan over her blatant sarcasm and just gave a conceding smile in their latest tit-for-tat game. Before he could say anything else though, they all turned to see Captain Grisham and a soldier they'd never seen before ride hard into town. Their steeds' gallops soon slowed to a steady advance before they dismounted and led their horses to tie them to the posts and water trough outside the military headquarters of Santa Helena's governor.

"New soldiers from Spain," whispered Marta to Tessa, over the newcomer.

"No doubt," the noblewoman nodded back, her demeanour suddenly changing to reflect that of the serious Queen. "More will follow shortly. Montoya must be getting desperate."

Tessa cast a sideways glance to Doctor Helm, whose eyes just narrowed in cold contempt for Grisham. As for this new soldier, it was obvious that he couldn't care less.

"I don't know about you, Doctor," Tessa spoke up, breaking the uneasy silence, "but I think we should perhaps welcome this brave new soldier to Santa Helena."

Helm was immediately confused over why they should do that, but before he could question Tessa, she and Marta were already walking over towards Grisham and the new soldier. The Doctor couldn't stand to be anywhere near the captain unless it was to beat him to within an inch of his life or to see him hanged. And he had to get back to his office to get ready for his list of patients.

"Oh, the hell with it," muttered Helm, shrugging as he followed the ladies.

Grisham and Williams had just turned to go up the stairs to Montoya's office when Tessa had called the captain by his title, making them both stop to turn their attention. Grisham muttered an, "Oh, terrific," upon seeing the sight of Senorita Alvarado and her gypsy servant, no doubt to stick their noses in where they didn't belong. If the noblewoman just minded her own business more, Grisham would view her as perfect to sleep with.

Doctor Helm's presence instantly made him want to take his sword and just gut him, then decapitate him and put his head on a pike to parade all around town. He quelled his desire, remembering where he was, and put on a cordial face. The captain's distaste hadn't escaped the new sergeant's notice. Williams instantly understood that his superior personally knew those coming to greet them, and recognised that if Grisham couldn't stand any of them, then Lionel would probably like them.

Emphasis…'probably'. _Trust _was something else altogether.

"Senorita Alvarado," smiled the Captain, nodding his head in greeting. Turning to Helm, he greeted him with a short, sour, "Doc."

"Captain," he replied back, with equal contempt.

"Welcome to Santa Helena, brave soldier," smiled Tessa warmly, holding out her hand to Lionel, who shook it and nodded back.

"Thank you, Senorita," he replied amicably. "Sergeant Lionel Williams, at your service."

"This is my servant, Marta. And my good friend, Doctor Robert Helm." Tessa gestured to her sides, introducing her companions.

"Pleasure," nodded Williams, equally amicable towards Marta as he had been to Tessa. He then nodded his acknowledgement towards the doctor, who just looked right through him.

"Sergeant Williams," sighed the Captain, losing patience rapidly over this idle chatter, "Colonel Montoya _really _doesn't take kindly to being kept _waiting_. Take it from _me_, I…"

"Gosh, how exciting!" interrupted Tessa. "The colonel's requested you all the way from Spain! You must be really important!"

Lionel studied the young noblewoman for a moment, and rather cautiously at that.

_You're much cleverer than you appear to be, _the sergeant thought to himself, as he looked into Tessa's eyes. _What's your game?_

Smiling perhaps too quickly, the sergeant replied, "I apologise, ma'am, but my past and purpose here is strictly confidential. I'm sure you understand."

"Of course, how silly of me," Tessa answered back, maintaining her warm smile. The sergeant then turned to Helm and said, "It's excellent that there is a doctor present in Santa Helena. The world needs more healers, in my opinion."

Grisham rolled his eyes upward as soon as Williams said that. He was now about to think that the new transfer wasn't so likeable after all, when Helm replied back, "I wish I could say the same thing about soldiers who butcher and maim innocent lives for nothing more than the sheer savagery and joy it brings them."

Tessa and Marta both looked away, biting their lips. Williams just stared at Helm before getting right into his face and darkly asking, "Excuse me?"

Grisham liked the sudden turn of events, and grinned like an excited child. He became sorely tempted to order the sergeant to punch the arrogant prick right in the face, make him bleed and pick his teeth up off the ground. But the horrible image of a ticked-off Montoya caning him for not fulfilling his orders, made Grisham cringe and snap back to his duty.

"As much as I'd love seeing the showdown, sergeant," called out the captain, hands on hips, "duty calls."

"Apologies, captain," said Williams, standing down, not taking his unblinking eyes off Helm. The doctor informed everyone, "I must be going also. I have work to return to. Ladies."

"Doctor," nodded Tessa back. Helm then left without giving Grisham or Williams any consideration at all. Turning to Tessa and Marta, the sergeant gave the customary goodbyes and "Pleasure to meet you. Hope to see you again soon," before following his superior to meet his new commander. As Lionel disappeared from sight, Marta remarked, "Very clever and with good manners. Not at all like the brainless thugs Montoya has had under his command."

"Obviously," nodded Tessa in full agreement, resuming her analytical nature. "So much for trying to find out what he's up to now. Oh, well, plenty of time for that later. Let's go home."

* * *

><p>In the office of Colonel Luis Montoya, Sergeant Lionel Williams was now sat down opposite his supreme commander, who was going over the reports and files on his desk. Grisham was stood at Montoya's side, raising a curious eyebrow over the colonel's impressed smile. Then the governor stopped flicking through the files to cast his captain a fierce sideways glance that meant, "Mind your own business". Grisham subsequently diverted his attention back to Montoya's ceiling.<p>

"Your reputation truly precedes you, Lionel Williams," remarked the colonel in modest approval. "A twenty-year veteran in the military, having joined when you were eighteen, switching between the American and Spanish armies. Fighting crime and corruption. With personal, _glowing _commendations from the Spanish Government…_and _Sir Arthur Wellesley himself."

"You will get my best work, Colonel," nodded the sergeant affirmatively. "I assure you."

"I have very little doubt. After all, what can one expect from a man…who acted as a double-agent, risked everything to provide inside information to the Duke of Wellington, and ultimately helped the Allied Powers free Spain from the menace of Napoleon?"

Grisham's eyes nearly bugged out upon hearing all that. Surely, he must've misheard Montoya. _A mere sergeant took Napoleon down from within? _His face went baffled and disbelieving, and was about to question if the reports were genuine. But the Colonel's sideways look immediately intimidated him back into silence. Williams just cast his attention back and forth between Montoya and Grisham, soon surmising the nature of their relationship.

"Tell me, sergeant," smiled Montoya, intrigued. "Having studied your history, I know that the Duke himself personally promoted you after Napoleon was defeated. You have a glorious career ahead of you back in Spain, you are a hero to the people and for the lack of a better term, you 'have it made back there'. Why did you request a transfer to Santa Helena?"

"Spain has long been capable of recovering from it's wounds, sir," Williams replied. "I am no longer needed there. However, California still regretfully suffers from appalling crime and corruption. And where Spanish domain is being threatened, it's my duty to serve."

Montoya stared at Williams thoughtfully. Then smiled again, "You have brought your _family _with you, I have been informed."

"Yes, sir."

"And everything you do…you do for them?"

"What man wouldn't, sir?"

Montoya stared again at the Sergeant before laughing at the question. Williams had been serious in asking it, and made sure to note the colonel's reaction as…_unusual _at best.

"Indeed," the governor settled down, nodding with an amused grin. "What _man _wouldn't? It pleases me that you are nothing but _loyal _to your obligations, sergeant. I'm certain I can rely on that highly admirable trait of yours."

"Absolutely, colonel."

"Good. Because if my experiences have taught me anything…it is always that _defying_ obligations, be it family or sense of duty…can create a path riddled with _consequence_."

"You _don't _have to tell _me _that, sir," replied Lionel, with a hint of bitter remembrance.

"Again, I'm delighted to hear that. Justification to what one already knows can do the soul a world of good."

Lionel was trying his hardest not to throw up. _Good God,_ he thought to himself. _Does he not realise just how corny he sounds?_

"Now," explained Montoya, his demeanour changing from fawning platitudes to serious intent. "With regards to your _first assignment_…"

* * *

><p>Ten minutes later, on the balcony outside of Montoya's office, looking over the square of the town, Grisham was following the colonel, whose mood had lightened enough to allow the captain back into private discussion.<p>

"He's a golden boy, through and through," was Grisham's opinion.

"Precisely," smiled Montoya. "And that is why I like him. Honest soldiers are always easy to manipulate and control, they are remarkably efficient - as his background entails - and he sees the world in black-and-white. He knows who the enemies are."

"Yeah, corrupt soldiers and politicians…"

"And _bandits_, Grisham. Once I described the Queen of Swords to the golden sergeant, he merely set his sights on dealing with her, purely on her outlaw status. No questions asked."

"Do you really think Williams is gonna fit in?" asked a cynical captain. "Sergeant Lionel Williams with thumbs-up approval from the Duke of Wellington? In _our _happy little club?"

"It's not a matter of whether he will 'fit in', Grisham!" snapped the colonel, annoyed by the crude perspective of his captain. "It's a matter of him doing what he is here to do, and making sure he is as happy as possible."

"Yeah, well, obviously he's gonna have to bag the Queen's head, but…"

"There is much more to this game than reinforcements," explained Montoya slowly and patiently, as they went down the steps into the courtyard. "Aside from being highly proficient, Sergeant Williams is politically connected and an investment I must ensure pays off. Do you have even a chance at realising the scope of what the Queen of Swords has _cost _me this past year? Do you?"

Sighing and scratching his head, Grisham came out with a feeble, "Yeah, well it's not for the lack of _trying _to…"

"Because of her annoying interference," interrupted Montoya, not in the least bit interested in Grisham's two-bit excuses, "the people worship her and no longer have a reason to fear me. The Dons have become harder and harder to control. People are paying their taxes on time, I have lost significant funds and land to others who clearly do not deserve them, my aspirations remain halted and rutted, and most annoyingly of all, SHE-STILL-LIVES. And because of that, because of your recent, _critical _failure to replenish my holdings via the church, I have now been forced to embark on a high-stakes, all or nothing gamble."

The two had long stopped in the centre of the courtyard. A tense Grisham, slowly looked to his master, who was determined to make sure he understood the importance of the situation.

"I have had to pull a _lot_ of strings, and carefully blackmail people to get the required reinforcements from Spain," said the governor slowly, emphasising the most important parts. "Given Williams' standing, it was imperative that he and his men come here. The Dons and the people have lost enormous faith and trust in the military over here. With Williams, I may be able to turn all that around and rid myself of the Queen at the same time. However, because of his own connections, and the precariousness of my own standing, he has also been sent here to investigate and uncover corruption. If anything were to happen to him or his family, the Spanish Court's attention would immediately turn to me. It is a true paradox, my dear captain. And one that must be handled with the utmost patience and caution if I am to survive this _unscathed_. From now on…_no more mistakes._ Otherwise, you will be sure to go down…_with me_."

Montoya then walked up to Grisham's side and coldly seethed, "Am I making myself _clear_?"

The captain of the guard quickly gulped and then grinned back at his superior, "Don't get me wrong. I _like _the golden boy. He's American, he's brought a nice woman with him, and anybody who calls Helm a self-righteous prick behind his back can't be all bad."

"I'm glad that you have at least a _semblance _of the spirit of cooperation, my captain. Now, the latest trap is baited and set. I take it Williams has been assigned the men _pre-selected_?"

"Absolutely," smiled Grisham, as they resumed walking.

"Excellent. Keeping Williams and his _hand-picked _men separate and scattered should quell any potential problems and thus make them easier to control. Now…let us wait and see how our new sergeant will _perform_."

* * *

><p>Two days later, Marta looked all around her, then she tugged the reins sharply to order the horses to stop. Getting down from the driver's seat, the gypsy went to the back of the wagon. Then she took one final look around her. They were a very safe distance away from the hacienda, on the trail towards out of town. Same old dessert, occupied only be the same old sand, hills, cacti, rocks and rugged terrain.<p>

And the occasional fleeting form of dashing life.

"We're clear," smiled Marta, as she pulled away the canvas sheets. "No one has followed us." The Queen of Swords then emerged from the back of the wagon and leapt down off onto the ground.

"Hopefully that should give us a head start," said the vigilante, as she walked over to nearby wild bushes where her horse Chico had been tied several hours earlier, ready and waiting for her. "Or at _least_ get there in time to save them."

"It's easy to assume that no one will be the wiser to the Queen coming to the rescue," warned Marta gravely, "but Montoya doesn't plant gossip in his most talkative drunken soldiers for no reason. It smells of a trap."

"What choice do I have, Marta?" asked the Queen as she checked that all her weapons were present before mounting her steed. "Aldo Garcia was a good family man. His death left his wife and children in debt and their farm in trouble. And you know Montoya's not interested in excuses. He'll send his thugs in to arrest them, then hang them. He gets the land, remaining holdings and livestock to do with as he pleases. I've got to save them."

"You are aware of course that you may cross paths with the new sergeant?"

"Yeah, I knew it was gonna be inevitable." Tessa drifted away for a moment, thinking about his situation before turning back to Marta. "Two days ago, he seemed nothing more than a decent man who knew what he was doing. An honest soldier."

"But you still have doubts?"

"I've been fighting soldiers for a long time now, Marta. I haven't come across _any _to make me change my opinion of them."

"So is that why you befriended his _wife _instantly when you met her yesterday?" the gypsy servant asked incredulously. "Just to be _sure_? Or to find out what Sergeant Williams wouldn't tell you?"

"I wouldn't do _anything _like that," the Queen assured her best friend adamantly. "Maria's a nice woman; friendly, outgoing…and I kinda got the impression that she seeks thrills of her own."

"Two more people who hide behind masks, then," Marta pointed out.

"Maybe. But if Williams _isn't _corrupt…is he here to help me?"

"You will know soon enough. But I would wager he is here to help Santa Helena, not _bandits_."

Tessa's masked eyes narrowed coldly upon hearing that tone.

"The people who _know _you know the _truth_, Tessa. Strangers do not," explained Marta, soothingly. "And if the sergeant is honest, Montoya won't need to manipulate him. Just point him in the direction."

"Then he's just another enemy in my eyes, then," shrugged the Queen. "Same way _they _view me."

"Be careful," said Marta, smiling with concern and affection as she stepped back to give her mistress and surrogate daughter some space to ride out on.

"Always," nodded the Queen with confidence and return love. "Be back in time for dinner! Vamanos!"

And so, the Queen of Swords sped off on her horse to once again save the day, with Marta looking on with enormous concern and pride.

* * *

><p>A few miles away and half an hour later, Sergeant Williams and his men were approaching the Garcia Farm.<p>

A lot was certainly going through the sergeant's mind right now.

He'd only been here two days and he'd already made up his mind on who he did _not _like. The captain had instantly despised Grisham for eyeing up Maria and swearing in front of Theresa. Williams had no idea what the hell Doctor Helm's problem was nor did he really care. He had better things to do then bicker with some petty judgemental surgeon who evidently barked more than he bit.

Williams had been surprised by Colonel Montoya. He didn't despise _him _as much as he did _Grisham_, though he suspected that would probably change in due time. The way Montoya had been sucking up to Williams was doubtless a feeble attempt at manipulation, and the sergeant had read the well-disguised _threats_ in-between the governor's lines. Montoya's laugh over Lionel's question over what man _wouldn't_ do everything for his family had been interpreted as _mocking_, especially when the question had been _serious_.

But from the smell of his new commander, Williams also instantly recognised that Montoya was far from stupid. Perhaps the only military man in Santa Helena with a _brain_. And he knew how to use it. And use it in a way to make all those around him afraid of him. Lionel need look no farther than Grisham's nervousness around Montoya for proof.

Senorita Tessa Alvarado - despite her snooping and false pretences of naiveté - seemed like a genuinely nice person, as did Marta. Maria had met them the day after they'd arrived in California, in town after speaking with Father Quintera on enrolling Theresa into the school. Tessa had treated them to lunch at the café, and before long, they were all laughing like old friends.

Maria had always hated stuck-up aristocrats who ponced about, flaunting their wealth and fancy clothes to mock each other and those poorer than them, but Maria could instantly see that Tessa was not like that. Then Vera Hidalgo came along and Maria had now completed her social circle, already acquiring the new happiness that she'd come to find.

Theresa had been amazed by everything she'd seen so far. The mighty soldiers standing to attention, horse carriages rolling along in all their glory, busy, decent folk toing and froing, the beautiful white buildings, the galloping steeds, the children playing; long story short, she had never been more amazed in her innocent, early life.

_Well, it's good that they're enjoying things at least_, reflected Sergeant Williams, as he and his men rode closer to their destination.

After briefing and initiation, Williams and the men he'd brought with him from Spain had been introduced to the Dons. Lionel had met Dons before, some of them arrogant, stupid wimps, some of them proud, intelligent great men. It was the same in Santa Helena, a mixture of aristocrats good and not so good, with Montoya assuring them that, "These new soldiers are the future of law, order and peace in Santa Helena. I assure you all, gentlemen…your investments will reap mighty rewards."

Lionel had kept his boredom and distaste for several of the Dons completely buried. Only a few of them he'd actually enjoyed talking to, such as Dons Ricardo, Vega and Philippe. The rest he'd just put up with, like always.

Then came the plan laid out for his first assignment.

Montoya had told him what he'd wanted to do back in their first meeting. To bring in the masked bandit known as the Queen of Swords. As soon as the colonel had said 'bandit', Williams had respectfully and instantly said, "Say no more, sir. I'll bring her in."

_Bandits_, the sergeant grimaced. Gunshots echoed through his tormented mind over that word.

Then came the long discussion of the plan, laid out by Montoya. Aldo Garcia's widow, Esperanza and her family were behind on their tax payments and thought themselves above the law, given that they were traitorous allies of the Queen. The plan was to leak information of the arrest so that the Queen's spies would get word that her allies were about to be brought in, ones who could provide valuable information about her stronghold and operations.

The idea was to flush the Queen out into the open, where an ambush would be waiting for her at the Garcia farm.

The whole notion that a family of farmers, recently bereaved, were secret servants of a bandit sounded exaggerated and very flimsy to Lionel. His questions had been dismissed by Montoya's, "As you know better than most, sergeant…you must never ever underestimate the insidious nature of crime and corruption."

_True enough, _reflected Williams once again. Though there was still a lot he didn't like here, like how Montoya had separated and scattered his men throughout the colonel's ranks. The colonel explained that it was 'important and essential' that these brave, new men learn to acquaint themselves with others, so as to truly perform and learn the values of trust and teamwork.

_Baloney, _Williams had thought. _You're trying to make us easier to control, so we don't cause you any grief. Smart boy. Just like me. But if you were gonna give me new men, you could've at least given me something other than THIS rabble. Smelly, stupid, undisciplined, contemptuous of my authority…the colonel's obviously trying to break me. Good luck._

The sergeant knew he had every reason to suspect both Montoya and Grisham of corruption. But he couldn't prove anything, so it was best to bide his time and exorcise these thoughts. Williams reminded himself that he was new to Santa Helena and it'd be stupid to make any mistakes on his first mission.

_Time to focus on the task at hand, _Lionel reminded himself as he and his men rode over the last hill to see the Garcia farmland before them. The sergeant's eyes narrowed in disdain at the sight he was seeing.

_Bandits._

Williams realised that anyone who called herself 'The Queen of Swords' must be very sure of themselves to choose such a boastful title. And if they were very sure…they would be very _good._

Right before the front of the Garcia ranch, Williams would see what had happened to the advance party of men that had gone on ahead earlier to arrest the family. There'd been _four _of them, all armed.

Two of them of them lay on the ground, hatless and knocked out. Williams halted his steed to observe the battle, to study the woman at work.

Long black hair, a beautiful face with brown eyes, masked by lace shawl specially prepared. A black blouse and bodice, black riding pants, black leather boots and gloves, and a long, red, silk scarf tied round her waist, bringing some much needed colour to liven the blackness of the costume.

The Queen had just kicked out hard behind her to wind a soldier, thereby allowing her to focus on the other grunt for the moment. All the while, Esperanza Garcia, her eldest daughter and youngest sons were huddled together in the porch, frightened but thankful that the Queen was here to save them.

The beautiful vigilante clashed swords wildly with the soldier, blocking and parrying when necessary. She got faster and more skilful, too much for the soldier and in the end knocked the weapon out of his hands, high up into the air. The bewildered grunt fell prey to a knockout shot from the Queen, who smiled, effortlessly caught the soldier's sword in her hand as it came back down, and then raised her arms, crossing the two blades in her possession to block an angry attack from the other - now recovered - soldier.

The Queen twisted her body round again, using her swords to grapple his own weapon out of his hands. The angry soldier roared and lunged for her throat. The vigilante just sighed, sidestepped and tripped him up. He landed on the ground, flat on his face like a fool, and was then clubbed into unconsciousness by the pommel of her sword.

Tessa smiled and then turned to the family, calling "Esperanza, are you alright?"

The mother's grateful expression then drastically changed into horror as she pointed, "Queen! Behind you!"

"Rush her!" ordered Sergeant Williams to his men. The ignorant bloodthirsty squad were only too happy to oblige. Williams preferred to sit back…and watch.

_Okay, let's see just see how stupid you lot really are. And how smart SHE is._

The Queen just smiled. Eight men riding towards her.

_Shouldn't be a problem._

She dropped her swords and snapped off two sets of bolas that she'd tied to her waist. A set in each hand, she swung to build enough momentum, then timing it just right, she threw the sets of corded weights at two of her new attackers. The boleadora wrapped around them, tying them up perfectly with their weights knocking them off their horses and onto the ground.

The Queen then looked to see two more riders, armed with lances now coming at her. She quickly picked up the swords by her feet and narrowed her eyes, knowing that her timing needed to be impeccable for this.

The soldiers were getting nearer. And nearer.

_Wait for it. Wait for it._

The riders both smiled with savage glee, wanting to see the look on her face as she realised she was about to be speared.

_Now!_ The Queen rolled forward at the last possible moment, narrowly avoiding the lethal jousts that sailed over her. Then swinging out with her swords in the correct fashion, she cut the straps of the saddles, making two more fall off their steeds and onto the ground.

"Go, Queen! Go!" cheered Esperanza's now excited children from the porch.

Sergeant Williams continued to look on. His remaining four men seemingly had more sense then their fallen comrades as they all dismounted from their horses to surround the masked swordswoman, their own weapons drawn. The sergeant couldn't care less about sacrificing these strangers for the sake of evaluation. If it was truly his own men, he would never have done such a thing. But given the circumstances, this was the best plan.

Lionel's narrowed eyes focused on the situation. Maybe this family were affiliated with the Queen. But the way they smiled…it was though they were all _thankful _for her being here. To save them from _soldiers._ The Garcia family looked more as if they were _struggling_, contrary to what Montoya had said, and the way the Queen fought…it wasn't at all like she was fighting to stop them from squealing anything incriminating.

It was like she was purely fighting _for them._

Corrupt soldiers, Montoya's questionable responses and actions, Williams' own warnings of being careful who to trust; all these things tormented his mind.

Just like they had done his whole life.

_Bandits_, he seethed again.

The Queen, now with one sword sheathed, had soon put the 'reinforcements' out of commission. The sergeant had been made sure to note how she moved, how she fought. Quickly, expertly, almost humanely.

_She knows what she's doing._

Tessa then turned to see the sergeant, the only one left riding slowly towards her, glaring at her. She immediately realised why he'd just stood there and sent his lambs to the slaughter.

_He knows now what I'm capable of. He's good._

Williams then stopped and dismounted, approaching the vigilante. The Garcia family huddled each other extra tight, concerned over this latest development.

Both the Queen and Williams realised the same thing.

_So I'm Montoya's trap for her. What a surprise._

_So he's Montoya's trap for me. Figures._

The two combatants just stared at each other in tense silence. The wind subtly adding more poetic chill to the showdown.

The masked Tessa broke the silence with a smile and a formal, "Sergeant Williams, I presume."

"You presume correctly…Queen of Swords."

Williams then drew his pistol and pointed it at the Queen, who just sighed, unimpressed.

"Put down your weapons…slowly."

"Can I just say how nice it is to surrender to a gentleman for a change?"

"Don't push me, kid."

The Avenging Angel raised an eyebrow to that, a little bit ticked off over that condescending remark.

"Likewise, old man."

The sergeant cocked his head to one side, and with equal resentment, he replied, "Touché. Now surrender and disarm yourself at once."

The Queen beamed brightly and said, "No."

The gunshot was fast, instant. The bullet landed literally inches away from Tessa's right foot, making her jump and the Garcia family huddle and whimper even more. The Queen's concerned eyes then cast to the spot where the shot had landed and then back to Williams' cold eyes.

_Sharp reflexes. Very sharp. And a warning shot._

"Like I said," warned Williams one final time, ready to fire his additional shot, "don't p…"

The whip cracked and uncoiled in a blur, wrapping round Lionel's pistol faster then he could react, and ripping the gunout of his hands, flinging it far away. The move shocked Lionel and brought relief to the Garcia family watching on. The sergeant watched tentatively as the Queen then twisted the whip to make it wrap fluidly back round her torso, so it couldn't distract her.

_Sharp reflexes. Very sharp. Warning that she means business._

"And like I said," warned the Queen of Swords, icily, taking her whip off around her shoulders and tying it back to her side, "Likewise."

Williams cocked his head to one side, took his hat off, threw it to the ground and then drew his sword.

"Hard way, then."

The Queen likewise tilted her head and drew her own sword.

"So it would seem."

They both began circling one another, knowing this was going to be tough.

_Don't think about his wife and child,_ thought Tessa.

_Don't think about Maria and Theresa, _thought Lionel. _Don't think about 'whys' and 'hows' and 'what ifs'…_

_Don't worry too much about the Garcias, don't think about Montoya…_

They both stopped circling, tensed their muscles and thought the same thing.

_Just focus on the job._

The sergeant lunged forward with his sword, the Queen swatted it away and came at the soldier with an overhead attack. Williams dodged and then swung up with his blade. The Queen blocked it, and tried to shove him away, but Williams was too strong. Tessa then tried to grapple her adversary's weapon out of his grasp, but the sergeant held on and shoved her hard on to the ground.

Lionel came at her, trying to impale his sword through the Queen's chest. She blocked the death strike, then planted her boots into William's mid-section, throwing him right over her. Despite the impact, the sergeant still held onto his weapon, as had the vigilante. They were both soon back on their feet, stepping things up with fast and furious parries of the blade.

Both refused to make a mistake, refused to give the other a second to breathe. Knowing she had to change tactics, the Queen tried to twirl her sword to confuse Williams, block the strikes and get close to his throat. The sergeant wasn't falling for anything though, and just retaliated with powerful motions, lunges and triangles. The Queen was soon forced on the defensive, having now unwittingly given the advantage to the sergeant because of her failed gamble.

Williams increased his rapid movements, knowing that he'd caught her off-guard and would soon have her. But then he realised too late that he'd made a stupid rookie mistake, and that was get overconfident and underestimate his adversary. The Queen saw a small opening in the combination and expertly caught William's blade and managed to parry him away enough to mid-air cartwheel to safe recovery. Now with the required opening, she straight-kicked Williams hard in the spine. The sergeant grunted with the sharp, precise blow and then rolled to recover, surprising Tessa, but only for a moment.

Lionel quickly turned to rise and re-engage in the swordplay. This time, the Queen was coming in fast, with skilful triangles, swings and upward thrusts of her own, determined to get the victory quick.

But as the two fought, Lionel realised that even though this bandit could kill (and most likely had) with great efficiency, she wasn't trying to murder him first, ask questions later. She wasn't out for blood.

As the Queen upped up the pressure, to try and knock the sword out of Williams' hand, she remembered the warning shot, the fact that he was a professional and a good family man. He'd obviously taken many lives and was obviously biased against those who wore masks, but he wasn't ruthless or bloodthirsty.

Williams then suddenly ducked and tried to impale the Avenging Angel. She leapfrogged above the lunge, surprising Lionel. Acting on instinct, he pulled his weapon back and got it up in time as the Queen landed on her feet and came at him with another strike. The two swords were now locked together, with the adversaries grunting and grappling.

"You've evidently had professional training," remarked Lionel through gritted teeth. "And you possess natural athleticism and skill."

"Thanks," grunted the Queen, feeling the sergeant's strength slowly starting to overpower her. "You're not bad, either."

She kicked out hard, scoring on Williams' knee. He cried out in pain and fell to his one, hurt knee, yet still held onto his weapon, refusing to lose the grapple. He shoved Tessa hard to the ground, making her land hard on her back. She quickly rolled along to avoid the next few strikes, and then recovered to sweep Lionel's legs. Rolling to get back up, the Queen then saw the sergeant get up literally a second after her and immediately knocked the sword out his hand.

She slowly approached the sergeant, to try and get the tip of her sword to his throat, to get him to surrender. Refusing to do so to a _bandit_, Lionel quickly ducked and grabbed the short sword he'd noticed strapped to the Queen's boot. Refusing to let the surprise distract her, she managed to block the attack just in time, but found herself surprised again, when Williams used the smaller weapon to knock her primary sword out of her hands.

Tessa then kicked her own dagger out of Lionel's possession, now leaving it hand-to-hand. She landed a terrific right across his face, then a wicked left, but her third punch was blocked, leaving her open to a very hard fist to the stomach. Lionel then followed it up with a wild backhand to the Queen's face that sent her to the ground.

The vigilante was hurt bad by those vicious blows, making her all the more aware that she couldn't lose. As her adversary closed in, she kicked out again, connecting with the sergeant's ribs, making him back away and grimace.

_Not on the first day, _he winced. _Not to a bandit._

The Queen got back up and threw her fist at Williams, who caught it and threw a punch of his own, which she likewise caught. They grappled and growled, like fierce dogs, equally determined not to give. They threw each other to the ground, in opposite directions where their weapons had landed.

Simultaneously, they picked them up, shot up to their feet, pointed their blades in the other's direction…

And stopped.

Stalemate.

Silent, tense stalemate.

"Ready to call it a day, sergeant?" asked the Queen, through gritted teeth.

"Not a chance in hell, kid," sneered Williams, with equally fierce determination.

"You sure, old man? You're looking a little tired."

"Save your breath. You're gonna be _missing _it."

Both combatants tensed their muscles to go at it again. Neither was even feeling tired after all they'd thought. And for all the chit-chat, the Queen and the sergeant were secretly acknowledging just how tough the other was.

And how the fight was only going to get harder the longer it went on.

They prepared to lunge…

"QUEEN OF SWORDS!"

Williams and the Queen stopped instantly and swung their heads simultaneously to look at the soldier with a bruised head, black eye and bleeding mouth, who had recovered. He smiled sadistically, his left arm wrapped round Esperanza Garcia's neck, and his right hand holding a pistol to the side of the petrified woman's head. Esperanza's youngest sons were crying and screaming, with her eldest daughter doing everything in her power to try and hold them back from getting themselves killed.

"Drop your sword on the ground…" shouted the merciless soldier, "put your hands in the air…surrender like the sergeant says…AND I WON'T BLOW THIS BITCH'S BRAINS OUT!"

Esperanza's tearful eyes met the Queen's shocked eyes, overwhelmed with horror and concern, and she could see that the vigilante was going to comply with the brute's demands. Esperanza shook her head slightly at the Queen, meaning, "don't listen to him." Tessa recognised it and shook her head back, meaning, "I'm not gonna risk your life." She was about to acquiesce when Williams, who had just stared at his soldier with utter disdain, came out with, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

The soldier looked at Williams and smiled back mockingly, "Following Colonel Montoya's plan, _sir_. He wants _her _at any cost."

"The colonel's not _here_. And nobody threatens an _innocent _life to complete a mission under _my _watch. Release her now, corporal. That's an order."

"The colonel's orders override yours, _sir_! And that's _final_! I'll count to _three_, Queen!"

Tessa had become even more shocked upon Williams' reaction to this development. Truth be told, she had expected him to smile evilly and commend the animalistic soldier for 'sterling work'. But he was fighting for _Esperanza_, forgetting his mission to bring the Queen in.

Just when she thought she couldn't possibly get any more shocked, the Queen saw Williams quickly turn and take a loaded pistol from the fallen soldier near his feet. Then point it dead at the corporal.

"Drop the pistol _now _or you DIE!" bellowed Lionel's voice from the depths of hell. It rattled the soldier, and made Esperanza stare at the sergeant with overwhelming confusion and fear.

"You…you wouldn't _dare_…" challenged the corporal, his pistol-wielding hand starting to tremble. Lionel just cocked the gun and slowly started to squeeze the trigger, aiming for the man's forehead, knowing that it wouldn't harm Esperanza.

"I'll count to _three_," he mocked back. "One…two…"

The reality that Williams _wasn't _bluffing hit the corporal hard. Panicking, he tightened his hold on his gun and hostage, burying the pistol harder against her head, making her cry even more, adding to the torment of her family.

"I'LL DO IT! I'M WARNING…!"

The whip wrapped round the corporal's pistol and wrenched it away from his possession. The Queen had taken advantage of the infighting by quietly moving into a position where she could get close enough to disarm the soldier without harming Esperanza. And now the murdering animal had been disarmed, left surprised and wide open to Lionel rushing in and punching him hard in the face, breaking his nose and releasing Esperanza, who immediately ran into the arms of her crying family.

As the Garcias all huddled and wept together in total relief, Lionel turned his attention to the fallen corporal, looking at him with utter disgust and contempt. Then he turned to the family, clearly just an innocent family who wanted nothing more than to go on with their lives in peace. The sergeant looked at them with apologetic eyes, also wracked with sympathy.

And then the Queen…

Williams turned behind to see that the Queen was gone.

_A bandit…saved a family's life from corrupt soldiers? No…she's a vigilante. She…my God are things THAT bad here that a woman has to take the law into her own hands? Can…_

The sound of a horse's cry snapped him back to the present, doing nothing to relieve his torment. Chico, with the Queen saddled on top, sprinted over and halted before him.

"I think this family's been through enough for one day, don't you?" asked the Avenging Angel with a deadly glare.

Lionel could only stare back at a total loss for words. The Queen then smiled and took out a card which she flung casually at the sergeant's feet.

"Welcome to Santa Helena, sergeant. Where _nothing _is what you think it is."

The Queen then rode off at high speed. Lionel didn't even do anything to stop her. He knew there was no point now. He cast one last look to the Garcias, with Esperanza hugging her children tightly, whispering, "God bless you, Queen. God bless you." Williams had absolutely no idea what to say to them, what possible comfort or apology he could give.

He turned to survey his fallen, useless, murdering men and then spat at the corporal lying unconscious on the ground. Finally, he picked up the card that the masked Tessa had 'given' him.

It was a tarot card. _The Queen of Swords._

The Garcia farmland had just become so much colder and lonesome for Sergeant Lionel Williams.


	2. Crossroads

_Disclaimer: Queen of Swords was created by Fireworks Entertainment, and is owned by ContentFilm. This story is NOT affiliated with the rights holders or the show's original creators. No infringement is intended and no profit is being made. This story is for entertainment purposes only._

_The author would like to thank Robert Vincent for all his valuable support and input._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2: Crossroads<strong>

The next day, in the streets of Santa Helena, Tessa and Maria were smiling, laughing and walking together, with full baskets in their arms.

"So, she said the scarf made me look like an anorexic peacock," explained Tessa, "and I came back with, 'I understand why you'd call _everyone _that, Carmella. After all the number of dresses you've returned and complained about, I'd be a bitter walrus, too.' You should've _seen _her face! Especially when all her 'friends' were laughing _with _me!"

"You go, girl!" applauded Maria. "Wish I could come up with stuff like that. Whenever some stuck-up tart called me 'old' back in Spain, I just punched them in the face and made them cry for mommy and daddy."

"Really, Maria!" gasped Tessa. "That's so unladylike!"

"Never really liked the idea of being 'daddy's little girl' to be honest with you," explained Mrs Williams. "Besides, it made people think twice about mouthing off to me. But…I _do _know that there's time for ladylikeness. To dress nice and be charming and elegant, and sometimes it _can be _fun. But doing what the _men _do…I think that's even more fun."

"Hmm…" mused Tessa, in a way that implied, _I wouldn't know anything about that_. Turning back to her new friend, she then said, "And I hardly think twenty-nine is 'old'."

"Oh, please, Tessa! People gave me crap about being too _young _for Lionel when I _married _him. Now they're saying I'm old? Sticks and stones, blah-blah-blah. Long as _I _look good, and feel good, that's all that should matter."

"So how are you finding life in Santa Helena so far?"

"It's nice. Theresa's looking forward to starting school, meeting other children…Father Quintera was a nice man. _I've_ met some great people already…"

"And your husband?"

"Oh, don't ask! First mission yesterday and already he decided that he hated his job, this place and…"

"GUARDS, LINE UP!"

The sound of Grisham's voice coming from the main street outside Montoya's headquarters made Tessa stop dead in her tracks. Maria stopped with her. Whereas Senorita Alvarado's expression slowly grew with horror, Mrs Williams' look was that of concern.

She asked Tessa slowly, "What's going on over there?"

They looked at each other and then quickly darted over to the scene.

* * *

><p>In the office of Colonel Montoya, Sergeant Williams stood to attention, his hat tucked under his arm, his eyes locked onto his commander, who angrily threw the report down on his desk, then menacingly rose from his chair to face the new sergeant. Lionel just returned Montoya's fierce gaze, not in the least bit intimidated by him.<p>

"There are no such things as excuses in this line of work, sergeant," began the governor slowly as he approached him. "The fact that it was your first mission in Santa Helena yesterday is not good enough. Neither is this shoddy excuse for a report on what happened. When I have high expectations of someone, then they will _deliver _the results I ask for. And whenever someone _assures _me that they will give me their best work, I always take that as a _guarantee._"

Williams didn't even flinch as Montoya leered into his face.

"And I do not take kindly at all to being disappointed. Especially from one such as yourself."

"Colonel Montoya," began the sergeant, his tone equally slow and icy, "I have done _nothing _but _thrive _on carrying out my orders throughout my career. And I will obey them without question. But whenever someone feeds me _false information _regarding an assignment, or provides me with disobedient, ineffective _disgraces_ to the name 'soldier', _I_ cannot be held accountable for disasters like what happened yesterday. As I'm sure you've _read _in my _report_."

"You presume you can take that tone with me?" bellowed the governor's face, reddening by the second. The colonel didn't know what enraged him most, the fact that Williams wasn't scared of him, his intelligence, his insolence, or all of the above.

"Regardless of what the Queen of Swords may be, it was blatantly evident that that family was nothing more than a struggling group of innocents!" protested the sergeant angrily. "If Esperanza Garcia was behind on her tax payments, she should've been simply arrested and made to stand trial! Not threatened and used as a hostage to blackmail a supposed-bandit into surrendering! _That _was coercion! And the last time _I_ studied the law, _that _was illegal!"

"Do you honestly think I can afford to waste time with _chivalries_? Crime is a disease that threatens the very security of this town! The enemy is cunning and relentless and I will not suffer insubordination from those who dare to challenge their superiors!"

"The Spanish Court have not sent me over here _just _to help you, Colonel!" shouted Williams back, knowing perfectly well that Montoya wasn't _directly _responding to his accusations, merely _evading _them. "I have been sent here with orders of my own! And that is to uncover corruption and investigate your frankly, highly-dubious standing! Having seen how your army functions after just _one day_, I'm running out of reasons _not _to label _you _and your _whole force _corrupt!"

"You are treading on dangerously thin ice as it is, Williams," sneered the governor. "I strongly suggest that you think twice about making further accusations without any _real_ _proof_. Especially after your critical failure and your obligations to your _family._"

Williams' unblinking glare pierced deep into Montoya's own, as the ominous silence exemplified the tension between them. The sergeant eventually broke it with a fierce vow, "This entire army is _questionable_ at best, Colonel. Everything from how it enforces, to how _you _command and govern. And I _will _find out the truth before I make any more 'accusations'. You need to know that."

"GUARDS, LINE UP!"

Williams turned to the sound of Captain Grisham's shouting, coming from outside, on the main street.

"And there is something _you _need to know as well, sergeant," explained Montoya, an evil smile creeping across his face as he walked over to the balcony. "Something you need to _see._"

* * *

><p>Outside, Tessa and Maria had reached the main street…<p>

To see a fearful Esperanza Garcia tied to a post. Opposite a firing squad.

"No…" whispered Senorita Alvarado, the shock making her drop her basket. She looked to Maria, now frozen on the spot, traumatised by what she was witnessing. Too many painful memories came back to haunt her, evident by the tear now escaping her left eye.

More soldiers had their weapons raised to the assembled crowd, warning anyone what would happen if they tried to intervene. Esperanza's eldest daughter, Lucia, was begging the soldiers to spare her mother, screaming for the Queen to come save her. Two men restrained her, their swords held to her throat.

Tessa wondered what she could possibly do. No one would care, let alone stop the execution, if she 'fainted'. Maria was too close to shake away so Tessa could transform into the Queen, and there wasn't enough time to dress anyway.

"No…" said Tessa again, slowly and painfully realising that this was going to be one of those occasions where not even the Queen could save everyone every time.

Montoya stepped out onto the balcony, highly smug as he placed his hands on the parapet to 'enjoy the show'. Lionel followed behind him. Upon seeing the sight, his eyes widened and his hat fell from his grasp. Grisham smirked in sadistic delight upon seeing them both and then ordered, "Guards!"

"I never leave business unfinished, Williams," explained Montoya, grinning. "I had Mrs Garcia arrested during the night and brought here. I'd hoped it would drag the Queen out from her hole but she's not a fool, as I'm sure you've learned by now."

"Are you insane? What are you doing?" spat Lionel incredulously.

"Proving a point. That no criminal is above me."

Tessa's mind raced for a solution, there had to be something she could do! She was the Queen of Swords! She had to save Esperanza! The noblewoman looked to Maria, totally at loss.

Maria then ran to the execution, her shopping spilling out of her arm onto the street.

"Maria, don't!" begged Tessa chasing after her.

"No!" cried Mrs Williams, running through the crowd. "Let her go!"

"This is beyond immoral! Stop this at once!"

"_I_ am in command here, _Sergeant_," reminded the governor. "And if you try anything, I will have you _shot_."

"Ready!" shouted Grisham, raising his sword, "Aim!"

Maria's path was obstructed by two soldiers blocking her way. Tessa ran up alongside her, trying to do _something_, but their rifles were pointed to her face as well.

Lionel's lip quivered as Grisham's signal came down.

"FIRE!"

The soldiers' fire impacted violently against Esperanza's body, killing her instantly. Lucia screamed in denial, as the two guards smirked and let her go, sniggering as they saw her run over to hug tightly the body of her dead mother, and cry her heart out.

The remaining soldiers dispersed and the silent crowd remained frozen over the latest atrocity their governor had committed. Both of Maria's eyes were now overflowing with tears. She didn't _have _to have known the victim personally to feel - or be reminded of - the loss the girl had now suffered. Maria turned to Tessa, and in her eyes…she no longer saw a friendly, outgoing, charitable person.

She now saw a _reflection_.

Williams had seen his wife, now being comforted by Senorita Alvarado. He exhaled sharply and lowered his head over what his commanding officer had made him, her and everybody else witness.

The statement that Montoya could do whatever he wanted. Because he _could._

The sickness, the audacity…it fuelled Lionel's contempt for his new superiors…even more.

"I admire you," explained the governor to Williams, looking indifferent at Lucia clutching tightly her dead mother. "I admire your honesty and resolve. I admire that you are no pushover…and I admire the fact that you are a rarity in this time. And I do so wish that I could afford the luxuries of fair trials and investigations and procedures like you do…"

_I'll bet you do, you murdering bastard, _thought Williams, seething with his head still low.

"But alas…I cannot. And _will _not, when circumstances are so _dire_. I acknowledge that you have a task appointed to you from the highest authority, and I will permit you to fulfil that task by all means. But if you wish to _survive _in Santa Helena…" Montoya let that last part hang in the air so it could sink in, "you need to understand that you are _now_ under my jurisdiction. You take my orders, and you follow them without question. I - am - the - law. And I am _not _in the habit…of having to explain myself…to _mere sergeants_."

Lionel slowly rose his head, the scowl on his face transparently clear and directed to the colonel, who turned with a nonchalant look as he finally asked, "Do we understand each other, Sergeant Williams?"

"From here on out, Colonel Montoya…" nodded Lionel resolutely, making sure his own words hung in the air to sink in, "there are _no misunderstandings whatsoever_ between us."

He picked up his hat and then stormed off. Another evil grin spread across Montoya's face as he said to himself, "You're dismissed."

Williams slammed the doors on his way out, threw his hat down in rage and struggled to quell his torment. Very rarely in his life had he wanted to scream in despair.

* * *

><p><em>Journal of Sergeant Lionel Williams, entry 2,099. <em>

_June 5th 1818._

_It's that time where I open an entry in my journal with the statements I use more than any other._

_I hate my job._

_I hate injustice._

_And I LOATHE…the bastards out there who maim, murder and laugh at those whose lives they ruin._

_I've been in Santa Helena now for three days and already I'm asking myself how could I have been so naive. Thinking that a nice, simple objective would be all there was to worry about in this hellhole…getting rid of crime and corruption in this…'charming little wonderful' town. Three days into my new life and I see a young woman in a mask fighting an oppressive military and tyrannical governor._

_What kind of a backwards world is this? Where the 'good guys' wear masks and the 'bad guys' have proud, bright uniforms? Where the good and innocent suffer and die…and the evil and guilty thrive and live?_

_It should be the other way round, for God's sake!_

_A drop of moisture falls onto the page…_

_I've only cried three times in my life. The first was when I lost my parents. The second was when I lost my aunt and uncle. And now Esperanza Garcia, doubtless a good woman who wanted nothing more than a happy, peaceful existence for her and all she loved…makes three. _

_I've seen people, friends, comrades and family killed before my eyes all too many times. In battle, caught in the crossfire, where I was fighting, doing all I could…and yet those three rare occasions where I've shed tears…were times where I could do absolutely nothing at all. Except be made to watch lowlife scum rip the heart from my chest…and spit in my face._

_It hurts. It hurts because I'm not used to it. Failing completely, not being able to do a damn thing except watch the bad guys win. And now…after these blessings and glimmers of hope…it's like déjà vu._

_All over…_

"Daddy?"

Williams paused to stop writing, and then turned to see his little girl, dressed in her nightgown, looking up at him both confused and worried.

"Are you crying?"

Lionel thought for a second and closed his journal, sighing and then turning to his daughter before nodding, "Yes, sweetheart. I am."

"You never cry. Why are you sad now, Daddy?"

"Because grown-ups are never supposed to cry, Theresa," he explained softly. "They're meant to be strong, big and brave for all the children. And tonight…is where you've finally found out the truth."

Theresa became even more puzzled. She'd always known her father to be big and strong and to see him shed tears had really surprised her. Tilting her head to one side, she asked innocently, "What truth, Daddy?"

"That there's no such thing as grown-ups. That we're all just children. Now and forever, just children with no idea what's going on. Or a clue on what to do."

Another tear fell from Lionel's eye and he screwed his face in pain and anger. Theresa patted her father on the arm gently. Her comforting made the sergeant's expression loosen into one of appreciation. He turned to smile at her, and was about to hug her when…

"Theresa…" came in Maria gently, carrying two cups of coffee for herself and husband, "it's past your bedtime, honey. And it's first day of school in the morning."

"Okay, Mommy," she nodded, as her mother sat down beside the table and put the mugs down. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, sweetie," Maria smiled weakly, hugging her daughter tightly. Perhaps too much…out of fear. She released her and then Theresa turned to hug her father.

"How can you still be a child, Daddy?"

"Maybe you can you figure it out for me, my brave little girl," sighed Lionel as he too tightly squeezed his child, scared. "One day...our shining, little hope."

"Goodnight, Daddy."

"Goodnight, brave little girl."

They separated and Theresa darted off to bed. Maria stared at the door to Theresa's bedroom for a few seconds after it had closed and then turned to face her husband, again lost in torment, his cold hands clutching the warm mug tightly to try and find comfort.

"It's not your fault," began Maria.

"Isn't it?" asked Lionel bluntly, still looking away distantly.

"You're not responsible for the evils of the world and neither am I."

"_You're_ not but _I_ am. I'm supposed to keep people safe. I'm not supposed to be _useless_."

"Lionel, look at me," urged Maria, reaching for his face and directing his gaze to hers. A tired, scarred soldier with grey eyes, facing a strong, determined woman whose eyes still retained their sparkle.

"I still feel the pain, too," exhaled Mrs Williams slowly. "Every day. But I am _not _helpless. And you are _certainly _not useless. You didn't kill her. You tried to save her. So did I."

"And ultimately we failed," said Lionel, bitterly. "Again. And I have to be expected to swallow that by a man who fancies himself the next world dictator."

"So what are you going to do about it?"

Maria took her hand away from Lionel's face as he contemplated what his wife had asked. What was he going to do about this? He took a sip from his coffee to help him think and then came out with, "I've got to get a report back to Spain somehow."

"How?" asked Maria, shaking her head confused. "Montoya's a heartless butcher. And what's worse is that he's clever. And how long has he been governor here?"

"I don't know exactly."

"_Years_. Obviously _years_. And no one's been able to touch him. What does that say to you?"

"That anyone who challenges him suffers, dies or becomes blackmailed! I _know _this, Maria!" shouted Lionel, banging his fist on the table in frustration.

"Lionel, calm down!" she whispered fiercely. "You'll wake up Theresa!"

Williams sighed and turned to face his wife. "I'm sorry, darling. But…I've been sent here to uncover exactly why things are so bad in Santa Helena. Now I know. And once the Royal Court…"

"You remember what it was like for us in the dark days of Napoleon," Maria pointed out. "We barely got out of all that alive. Montoya's not stupid and you have no _real _evidence. Even if you somehow managed to stay alive, it could be your word against _his_."

"We have political protection," reminded the sergeant. "If anything happened to us, Montoya would pay the consequences."

"Oh, yeah, sure, that sounds great on paper, but I think the life insurance would be very crummy indeed. He won't touch us because he's scared of reprisals. That's one of the things that makes him smart. But you're smart, too, and you know that there's no way you can possibly take him down this early without risk."

Lionel thought about this long and hard. He could report Montoya for violation of so many laws, for abusing his power. That's what he was here to do. But Maria was right. Everything went through the colonel in Santa Helena. How could he get a report out without him knowing about it? And silencing him? And if Williams could, it would be his word against Montoya's, Grisham's and doubtless dozen more liars and murderers they had behind them. And the people, the Dons, were most likely too scared or didn't have the means to oppose the governor in support of Williams. And the Colonel had been in power for a long, long time.

"Thin ice," remembered Lionel, thinking back to what Montoya had said. Everything Montoya had implied. And the sergeant certainly wasn't going to do anything to put his family in danger, just to bring the fat coward down.

Maria took a sip from her drink, and then said, "I'm _not_ saying that you should give up the good fight. I'm just saying that you have to be careful. We _both _have to. For Theresa's sake, if nothing else."

"It's worse than Napoleon, Maria" said Lionel boldly. "Countries were united together - more or less - to fight for hope and peace. Here, a civilisation is suffering and _nobody _cares."

"_I_ do," declared his wife, truthfully. "So do _you_. And I _know…_Tessa Alvarado does, too."

The sergeant regarded this for a moment, before downing some more coffee.

"Maybe."

"She's not like everyone else. She's suffered. She told me she lost her father to murderers. She's witnessed Montoya's cruelty…"

"And she can't do anything about it," interrupted Lionel bluntly. "Who can? Who else cares?"

The sergeant then paused, his mind seized by the epiphany. He turned back to his journal, opened it and flicked through the pages to find the spot where he'd tucked away _it_. Seconds later, he sighed and took out the _Queen of Swords_ tarot card that he'd kept from their encounter. He held it, studying it curiously. Contemplating.

Maria's eyes went stern.

"Lionel…I really don't think that's a card you should play."

"I'm not going to. Her being a vigilante doesn't make everything alright in my eyes. I've seen vigilantes do more harm than good. And I really hate masks, you know that."

"But?"

"If I'm gonna be a part of this I need to know _exactly _what I'm letting myself in for. I need answers Montoya won't give me."

Maria sighed anxiously and buried her hand in her face. "It's bad enough that Theresa's exited about all of this. I couldn't discourage her from all those Queen of Swords stories back in Spain that that damn Edward Wellesley wrote. Now another obsession…"

"Wait a minute, wait a minute…" interrupted Lionel, putting his hand up. "What did you say?"

Maria just raised an eyebrow at her husband.

"You really need to start paying more attention to what goes on in your daughter's life. And newspapers for that matter. The Queen's been around for over a year, and you've never heard of her until Montoya mentioned her to you three days ago?"

Lionel twitched a little, trying feebly to cover up his embarrassment with, "I'm always busy. And I hate journalism, you know that."

"I know papers exaggerate stuff, but we still need to know what's going on in the world," pointed out Maria, trying to lighten up the conversation.

"I've found working with the government and in the army to be a much more reliable source of information," defended the sergeant, chuckling. His wife also chuckled and they drank some more coffee to help themselves feel better. Maria then went serious for a moment and looked at her partner.

"Lionel…do you remember what we promised each other? On the night I told you I was pregnant?"

Williams went just as serious and answered word-for-word, "'I will do everything in my power to ensure there's as much of a sane, happy world for us and generations to come…"

"'I will do everything in my power to protect our child. And make sure she's ready and there to see it. And be a part of it'," finished Maria, equally determined.

They raised their mugs and toasted the vow once again.

"Two Americans in a strange land," smiled Mrs Williams. "Together against anything that comes our way. Again."

"And may we find a new family," smiled Mr Williams, "to succeed the one we have lost to the devil. Again."

They both finished the last of their drinks and gazed deep once again into each other's eyes.

"I love you, Maria."

And their lips came together, locked in passion and love.

* * *

><p>It hadn't been a very good week.<p>

Lionel wondered how much more of this he could take before he did something drastic.

Following Esperanza Garcia's 'execution' - something of a contradiction in terms - Williams had secretly travelled to the farmland, hoping to see the twenty-one year old Lucia, who was now expected to keep the family dream alive and safe from Montoya's grasp, as well as be legal guardian to her younger brothers, only just about to reach adolescence.

The sergeant knocked on the door at night. Lucia opened it to see Williams standing before him, with apologetic eyes and a bag full of money to help the family. She gasped and quickly begged, "Please, sergeant! Don't give us anything! Just leave us alone!" and slammed the door, slumping to the floor, huddling and crying. Lionel could still hear her weeping as he sighed painfully and walked away.

Then came another confrontation with Montoya the following morning, who explained that the Queen would see no point in protecting the Garcias anymore after what had happened. Their land would soon revert to the state so it would make no difference what soldiers did now. Williams found it very difficult not to spit his contempt at the colonel's callousness, yet he managed to retain his composure. Montoya then smiled, "Perhaps it's best you stay away from the Queen now, Williams. Given your failure and evidently overrated stature…I suggest you focus on matters that are more befitting a sergeant until I can decide whether you are of real use to me after all."

He'd then been dismissed without another word and demoted to demeaning escort duties, arrests, and guard patrol, which Williams took as a slap in the face. He hadn't seen any of his fellow soldiers from Spain in days. Comrades, friends…doubtless in the same boat that Lionel was. Being subjected to Montoya's way of saying, "I _own _you all now. And I can do whatever I want…because you're all little people. And I am the power here."

Williams felt bitter and lonely, very much an outsider. But certainly no pushover. Sergeant Gonzalo (one of Montoya's lackeys) had laughed, "Hey, Williams! You look grumpy! Has the Golden Boy lost his shine?" Lionel had told him to take a bath at once to save everyone from his stench, and maybe stop his _lice _from spreading everywhere. Gonzalo had been quick to anger, and quick to put flat on his back, along with his men, who now thought twice about messing with Williams.

A trip to the jail to check on prisoners had just made Williams shake his head in disgust. Some meagre bandits, petty thieves and innocent children who'd obviously done nothing wrong. But it was the sight of the soldier - who was meant to be guarding - fast asleep, that really did it for him. The sergeant had smacked the private out of his chair, belittled him, made him sweep the floors, then relieved him of duty before putting him on probation.

It was now the end of his first week in Santa Helena. Williams was reaching boiling point over this shambles of a militia, and the appalling crime situation. He'd been separated from his friends and had made all too many new enemies. Fellow soldiers glared at him every time he walked by. He simply responded in kind. Now he had the reports in his hand, to be given to Colonel Montoya through Captain Grisham right away.

Williams approached Grisham's office and knocked on the door.

"_What?" _shouted the captain's voice, evidently frustrated at being interrupted. Lionel couldn't care less.

"Captain Grisham, you wanted to see the reports right away."

"_That's nice, Williams. Just leave them outside like a good little boy."_

"Colonel Montoya's orders specify you to hear from me personally, sir. It's urgent."

"_I said beat it, sergeant!"_

Lionel fell silent for several seconds. Then just barged his way into the room…

To see Grisham involved in a very passionate embrace with a small, blonde, beautiful young woman. One who Williams had seen previously, had met, and had recently befriended Maria.

Vera Hidalgo. The wife of Don Gaspar Hidalgo.

Grisham glared evilly at Lionel, like he wanted to beat some manners into him. Vera's shock of being caught in the act was soon replaced by a very cheeky smile.

"Good afternoon, Sergeant," she greeted cheerfully.

"Good afternoon, Senora Hidalgo," Williams replied back indifferently, not at all surprised over this discovery. "Apologies, Captain. I didn't quite _hear _what you were _saying_. I'll come back with the reports _later. Much _later."

Williams turned, with the papers held underneath his arm, and left the room. Grisham sighed in exasperation, then grinned to Vera, "Back in a moment, babe." Senora Hidalgo just giggled and lay on the captain's desk, eagerly waiting for her man to return.

"Hey, Williams!" called the captain, walking fast down the hallway to catch the sergeant up.

"Yes, sir?" Lionel asked, stopping and turning to face his superior.

"You didn't see _nothing_. Alright?"

Williams just raised an eyebrow at Grisham, staring at him quizzically for a moment. He then pinched his own hand, right before the confused captain.

"What do you know?" remarked Williams casually. "I _felt _that. Which means I'm not _dreaming_. And that I actually saw _something_."

Grisham chuckled sinisterly, nodding, "Ah, you're a funny fellow American. I like that. But um…is it really such a good idea to kid around in a town like this?" Grisham's mood started to darken. "Especially when you've got a pretty little wife and a cute little girl?"

The sergeant's glare turned into a smirk. He then looked over his shoulder and came back with, "Your…business with a Don's wife is clearly private and off-the-record, captain…"

"I knew I liked you," nodded Grisham.

"As is _this _conversation," continued Williams, his own tone darkening, "and the warning I'm about to give now. You come _anywhere_ near my family…and I will _cripple_ you for the rest of your days. And then I will see you in hell."

The captain's eyes stopped blinking and narrowed. The two soldiers got face-to-face, neither one backing down.

"Mouthing off to a superior officer again, huh? Y'know…I've cut people's tongues off for thinking they can get away with such disrespect."

"Oh, I have _plenty_ of respect for _authority_, captain. Just _none _for _you_…Grisham."

"Tut-tut-tut. Sounds like someone's gonna have to be punished. That's disappointing, especially after such a _bad _first week. You really shouldn't have forgot what the colonel was saying about _consequences…_"

"The difference between us is _this_. I'm no _rat. _And incidentally, I've already got a woman who I can safely and proudly call my _own_."

"Alright, wise guy," sneered Grisham, more than one nerve touched, "I've had just about enough lip…"

"You could've fooled me," remarked Williams, nodding in the direction of the captain's office, where Vera was still waiting.

"You really should quit while you're ahead. So as I won't kill you _too _badly _outside_."

"Anytime, anyplace, sir…I'll be there," nodded the sergeant, accepting the challenge. "That is…if _you're_ not too busy."

With that, Williams turned to walk away. The enraged Grisham was about to grab his shoulder, swing him round and teach him some manners when…

"Marcus!" sang Vera's voice from down the hallway. "Where is my shining captain?"

Grisham sighed and then looked to see that Williams had long gone. He blew out a huff at the ceiling, turned back to his office and then shrugged conceding, "Gimmie a few weeks, Williams."

* * *

><p>"You're healing very nicely indeed, Adrián," informed Doctor Helm, having finished applying the latest bandages. "The swelling's gone down tremendously. Just keep applying the ointments, remember to bathe your arm twice a day and the infection should be gone in two weeks, I'd say."<p>

"Thank you, Doctor," smiled a grateful Adrián. "As always."

"Not at all. I'll see you in a fortnight. Take care."

"Farewell, doctor."

Helm smiled a goodbye to his final appointment and then yawned, stretching his arms and bending his back slightly before gently rubbing the back of his neck. It had been a tiring day, but a good one overall, with very little to worry about. Montoya and Grisham had left him alone, all his patients were happy and on the road back to full health, and the upcoming charity fiesta was something to look forward to.

The doctor locked the door and decided to tidy everywhere before having his much-awaited drink. As he began to put away instruments, tools and medicines, Helm thought about the fiesta again. Senorita Alvarado had been one of the highest contributors to the event. Helm thought it funny. If this was all taking place last year, shortly after Helm had arrived and first met the aristocrat, then he would've viewed her as trying to impress everyone like a spoilt, attention-seeking child.

But he'd been in Santa Helena for well over a year now, and despite getting off to a very rocky start with her - and being rude and intolerant with her for months after - he _had _come round (eventually) to seeing her in a different light. Seeing her help his patients, the occasional newcomer (Kami) and extreme cases (Camilla and Andreo); did say a lot about the young senorita. Her compassion, her honesty and desire to help.

And he liked to think that maybe she thought the same of him. After all the flippant comebacks, the deliberate time-wasting with false ailments and casually talking about sensitive subjects which riled the doctor.

Helm thought back to Tessa Alvarado, her servant Marta (a wonderful person indeed), how tensions had cooled down to the point of them actually befriending each other and occasionally socialising…

Then he thought back to when their hands touched over that apple.

_What are you thinking, Robert? _laughed Helm, resuming tidying his office. _She'd much prefer to squabble over apples then share them. Then again, so would I. And let's face it…my heart DOES belong to someone else…_

The doctor then sighed and lowered his head in loneliness.

_Can you really envision yourself settling down one day with someone as INCREDIBLE as HER? You're a fool, Robert Helm…_

The loud knocking on the door shocked Robert out of his deep thought. Shock quickly turned into annoyance, as Helm took a logical guess who it might be.

_Montoya or one of his monkeys, _groaned the doctor. "If you want to book an appointment, come back in the morning when my office is _open_!"

"_Doctor Helm, it's Sergeant Williams. I need to speak with you."_

"Well, isn't that nice," shouted the Englishman back sarcastically. "Please tell the colonel that I'm unable to tend to his horse on account of the fact that I'm no vet and that I'm _finished for the day_!"

Williams just paused for a moment, looked over his shoulder and ignored the urge to simply kick the door down to get out of the chilling wind.

"Do you really think the colonel would let _me _speak to the likes of _you_?" asked the cynical sergeant. "Knowingly or otherwise? I need to speak with you privately. Please."

"_Magic words," _came Helm's mocking voice from the other side of the door. _"Thought they were beyond sergeants' etiquette. Guess we live and learn."_

Williams seethed impatiently, and again quelled the urge to simply kick the door down.

"I'm _not_ going away, _doctor_."

Helm sighed in frustration and put the stethoscope back down on the table. He then walked over to the door, with an unwelcoming look on his face, and let the sergeant in.

"Thank you," nodded Williams, amicably, wiping his boots on the doormat. Helm noted that trait and wasn't impressed. He closed the door behind him and they walked over to the middle of the room.

"So what can I do for you, sergeant?" asked Robert, folding his arms. "What _private _matter do you _desperately _need tending to? Is it over-exertion from carrying too much paperwork? In which case I'd recommend a lie down. Or is it guilt? Over leaving a family orphaned and pending loss of land to our 'honourable' governor? In which case, I'd recommend a priest for atonement, and a bottle of whisky to drown yourself in."

Lionel glared evilly at the Englishman for several seconds, before replying back, "Are you always this hostile to new people you meet, Helm? Or is it you just don't like _me_?"

"I don't like those who inflict suffering on others with their incessant need for fighting, and then have the nerve to act as gentlemen."

"That's okay," nodded Williams. "I didn't come to Santa Helena to be _liked_, as you did. I came here to rid this godforsaken pit of crime and corruption. And I've got much better things to do than argue back-and-forth with some stuck-up, two-faced, cringe-_coward _who _hides _behind doctoring, and uses it to make himself feel superior to everyone else!"

Helm's face expressed shock and then reddened with anger over the harsh insult. He opened his mouth to reply, but Williams beat him to it with, "Shut up. Now…regardless of what you think of me, or I of you…I really need answers from a _reliable _source."

Helm stared at the sergeant dubiously for a moment before asking, "Answers? For _what_?"

"About the Queen of Swords."

The doctor chuckled condescendingly, "Are you serious, Williams?"

"I'm in a town where the people worship a masked outlaw, the governor abuses his power and uses soldiers as hired killers. I've seen people suffering and being executed unfairly when they should be being helped, and I know that there's so much more to this tale of woe then certain colonels and captains are letting on. A time's going to come where I'll have to pick a side. And I would _really _appreciate _not _going to my grave a blind idiot, and taking _more _innocent people down with me!"

An ominous silence fell as Lionel then got into Robert's face, before asking intently, "Is that too much to ask, doctor? Or do you only choose to help the sick and not the rest of the world? Because there're only certain emergencies that suit you?"

Helm's mind flashed back to the assassin Latham, who had killed Don Aguilera trying to kill him. His son Ramon had nearly been murdered in a blood feud with Don Fuentes over assumptions because Robert was haunted, _scared _of his past. It had nearly cost the lives of many more people when he had tended to and protected The Serpent, because he had let his doctor's oath blind him.

Very bad choices, which the doctor still regretted. Williams' declaration of putting people before himself, and insulting the Doctor's integrity (which Helm partly felt was justified), made the Englishman develop a new form of loathing for the sergeant's insensitivity. But Helm refused to let Williams rile him, in his own home no less, so he leant against the table, folded his arms again and asked, "So what do you want to know…sergeant?"

"I've been going over numerous reports about the Queen," explained Williams, taking out a notebook and pencil, and resting against a nearby desk. "Off the record, of course. No need for Montoya to know. I've always found…'official' reports to be somewhat grossly inaccurate. Which is why I need first-hand testimony for this investigation."

"And?"

"Seems you have quite a relationship with the vigilante, gathering from what I've read."

"_And_?" asked Helm, eyes narrowing.

"And you're a doctor, and doctors are known for telling the _truth_. They may keep secrets…but they never _lie_."

Williams got to a blank page in his note book, pressed the nib of his pencil on the paper, preparing to write and then looked up to the doctor.

"Tell me about the first time you met her."


	3. Trials

_Disclaimer: Queen of Swords was created by Fireworks Entertainment, and is owned by ContentFilm. This story is NOT affiliated with the rights holders or the show's original creators. No infringement is intended and no profit is being made. This story is for entertainment purposes only._

_The author would like to thank Robert Vincent for all his valuable support and input._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3: Trials<strong>

_Journal of Sergeant Lionel Williams, entry 3,000. _

_July 3rd 1818._

_Never thought I'd get a chance to write again._

_It's been a hard month. What with trying to do my job and uncover the truth about the Queen of Swords. Dealing with pressure from Montoya and the Dons. Fighting off would-be soldiers and brawling with the Captain of the Guard…_

_Keeping all my struggles locked inside me for so long._

_My father gave me my first journal. Just to write, so I could discover for myself who I was. When he was gone…I really started to learn._

_It's become a big part of who I am. My ability to put ink to paper, to transfer my feelings from inside to outside. Maria helps obviously, but sometimes, one needs something more to express. And cope._

_So now, here I am. About to share my experiences with my beloved journal, about a war I'm preparing myself for. And a woman whose existence and revelations have rocked me to the core._

_Let me start with my conversation with Doctor Robert Helm. And how I asked him to tell me about the first time he met her._

* * *

><p><em>He proceeded to explain to me that it was shortly after he first arrived in Santa Helena. He'd been requested to treat injured soldiers and sick people by Colonel Montoya, who fawned to him and asked if there was any possible medicine he could give to certain people, without actually telling the doctor WHY they were so sick.<em>

_Helm said that he soon learnt what was going on, when he was ordered to go to a mine several miles out of town to evaluate the condition of 'voluntary workers', who were unearthing gold for the greedy colonel. The conditions of the mine were most hazardous. Toxic, suffocating, constant danger of landslides, the list was endless. It obviously sounded to me that these 'workers' were people enslaved against their will, given the number of deaths and the fact that they were overworked at TWELVE hours a day._

_Montoya apparently justified all this by saying that the mine 'officially' never existed, neither did the workers. Helm then explained that Sergeant Alonzo - Alonzo, a man I've come to despise as a glorified bully - threatened the lives of six men just to get the Queen to surrender. Rather than risk innocent lives to murdering scum, she allowed herself to be captured._

_Helm's whole story reminded me of me and what happened on the Garcia farm. I saw the emotion in the Queen's eyes. The horror and disgust over these pigs threatening innocent people just to make themselves feel big._

_Helm didn't exaggerate telling his stories. He spoke to me honestly and professionally over his encounters with the vigilante. He cut to the chase also where it mattered. Their first meeting had ended when he convinced Alonzo to clear all the men out of the mine for water, air and treatment, tended to a gunshot wound the Queen had sustained earlier, then secretly helped her escape. She subsequently made Alonzo cry like a baby and then blew up the mine, ruining Montoya's chance for a fortune, and saving the slaves from further subjection._

_Given the circumstances, I completely understand why Helm did what he did._

_Helm gave me more anecdotes, like how the Queen saved Santa Helena from a great fever by thwarting Grisham, who had set fire to the doctor's office, so he couldn't save people or a critically-ill Montoya, just to become governor. It became increasingly difficult not to storm out of the room and kill them both with my bare hands upon hearing all this._

_As the doctor told me more of times when they'd been forced to work together in life-and-death situations, I could tell that Helm had genuine feelings for her, but I kept that observation to myself. Helm's cooperation and attitude overall had been exemplary, and he was doing me a huge favour. Even though we hated each other, I couldn't fault his professionalism, so the least I could do was return that professionalism whilst interviewing him._

_We talked for an hour and a half overall. He told me only what I needed to know, which is what I asked for. When I asked him if the Queen had ever killed anyone, Helm gave me a cold look and asked me what I was implying._

"_I'm not implying anything," was my response. "I'm merely asking."_

"_She's killed to save lives," admitted Helm. "Mine, hers, others more…but only when she HAS to. When there's no other option. She's not callous or evil. She saves much more than she kills. She fights for the people."_

_Killing had obviously been a touchy subject with the doctor. I could tell just by looking into his eyes, observing his slight, painful sighs, his size and build. I guessed he was much tougher than he let on. Just wish he'd do something about that personality of his._

_Helm's ultimate verdict was that she was a frankly amazing woman. A true heroine. Again, he wasn't exaggerating in his tone. I just hope I can realise the truth for myself. I thanked Helm for his help and told him that I wouldn't bother him again outside his hours. He said I was welcome and then showed me the way out._

_The last few weeks have been a blur, what with doing my job and trying to get to the bottom of this mess. Obviously don't want to make Montoya or Grisham suspicious of what I'm doing, so I just did my job, not giving them anything to complain about. No more insolent backtalk, just fulfilling orders. And they seem to have left me alone, at least for now._

_Eavesdropping on gossip regarding the Queen has further helped clarify things. Peasants continue to proudly say how their sons were saved by the vigilante from hanging, or that they were saved from fever thanks to her and Doctor Helm. Or that they became richer and less hungry due to her giving gold to them. Or that they would've suffered at the hands of an egotistical Spanish Ambassador if not for her intervention._

_Members of the aristocracy also seem to have acknowledged the Queen positively, whether it be saving their lives, helping them from Montoya or returning stolen possessions. Notions that some of the rich fear, mistrust and despise the Queen - viewing her to be a mere thief and bandit - surely must have existed at one time, given how she hides behind a dubious mask. It is a natural reaction in some people. But whatever negativity may have existed seems to have long been quelled by her intent and deeds._

_I first thought about how absurd that sounds. Then I reminded myself that she has been around for OVER A YEAR. A lot has clearly happened which I haven't known about._

_Maria's remarks about how I should pay more attention to news stories embarrass me. Just a little._

_Anyway, it's safe to say that the people idolize her as a symbol of hope. A champion, no less. Having now read Theresa's collection of Queen stories (I can see why Maria refers to the writer as 'that damn Edward Wellesley'), listening to tales and gossip, I can also see why the vigilante is such a popular subject._

_But I needed more first-hand accounts from people who I could trust to keep interviews confidential. That meant more secret visits to people who were reliable and/or couldn't stand Montoya. After going over more reports, I decided to question a few more subjects, being ever careful not to let the colonel catch on._

_Father Quintera, the padre of the local church, was an ideal character-witness. How can you doubt a man of God? It fitted in perfectly with what Montoya wanted me to do one day, go over and make sure everything was in order for the upcoming fiesta, that it all 'corresponded with the law'. The colonel's obviously bitter that he's not going to profit in any way from this fundraiser._

_Maria said that Quintera was a wonderful man. She was obviously telling the truth. It was a rarity to meet such an honest, kind-hearted Samaritan like him. We quickly got the progress of the fiesta out of the way to keep the colonel satisfied, and then I asked if I could have his opinion on a few things, which he agreed to without question._

_I'd turned to the statue of Our Lord and asked the father if He was disappointed in what His children had done to His wonderful creation, with our childish infighting and defying the Ten Commandments. Quintera put a sympathetic hand on my shoulder and said, "Unfortunately, there are forces of evil at work, Sergeant. They cloud the mind and heart of good men and women. That is why God blesses us with the gifts of confession and forgiveness. And that is why he gives us miracles like the Queen of Swords. And you. Both of whom we can count on to right wrongs."_

_That part really touched me. As did the father's statement that, "God also continually blesses us with beautiful children. Like Theresa. Such a bright, wonderful girl."_

_The father was a well-known supporter of the Queen, having seen her do everything to help the people and protect them from murderers. He told of me of an incident that happened several weeks ago before I came to California. During preparations for the fiesta, armed robbers had stormed the church, taking hostages and attempting to make off with the charity fund. The Queen had arrived in time to save Quintera from having a bullet in his head, fought off all the masked bandits and saved the fund and the lives of everyone present._

_Quintera told me of more occasions where the Queen had helped him out personally, and it was at this point where I asked him if it was true that the Queen had actually once assaulted him and robbed the church of a fund which has long been used to build the local school._

"_Oh, no, sergeant!" the padre dismissed vehemently. "That was a blasphemous impostor who dared to sully the Queen's good name. The real Queen actually returned the school fund and the impostor was later exposed and executed by the colonel."_

_Official reports did indeed verify this to be true. Which struck me as contradictory of Montoya's nature. If the Queen's reputation was being sullied, surely he'd allow it go on. Even more likely he was actually behind the ruse. So why would he allow the truth to come out? Maybe he was actually trying to atone for something here. But then I thought how ridiculous that sounded. We're talking about Montoya here._

_Quintera's final statement that the Queen was, "A miracle. A true miracle of God," made his feelings perfectly clear. I thanked the padre for his invaluable help, and said that if there was ever anything I could do for him, he needed only to ask._

_Following Maria's advice, I decided to speak next with Tessa Alvarado and her servant Marta. Both were honest and trustworthy in Maria's eyes, and that was good enough for me._

_Journeying on to the Alvarado land…made me feel better after my bad experiences in Santa Helena so far. What a positive feeling to ride there. The trees, the beautiful gardens, the farmlands, the hacienda itself; the sun's radiance making it Heaven on Earth…_

_Then I saw all the workers, dozens of them. Smiling, happy faces proud to have purpose and to work for such a kind-hearted girl. As soon as I dismounted, a worker came up to me, who kindly took my horse away to the stables to be cleaned and fed. I smiled my gratitude and then looked to see Senorita Alvarado talking with her servant, waving to happy workers as they passed by._

_The noblewoman approached me with, "Sergeant Williams! What a lovely surprise!" She is indeed such a welcoming, genuine person._

"_Sorry to intrude, Senorita," I explained to her, "but I need your help. BOTH your help."_

"_Certainly! Do come inside. Marta, bring some lemonade for our guest."_

_When I explained it was about the Queen of Swords, she laughed modestly, saying she didn't know much, but she and Marta would be happy to cooperate. I couldn't help feeling though that when my back was turned, the young Alvarado was giving me a suspicious look._

_The Queen was rumoured to have been a personal friend of Tessa Alvarado, given the number of times she rescued Marta, and how the senorita gossiped about her saving lives, fighting soldiers and giving gold to the people. More anecdotes about a trial witness, Marta's old love from Spain, the deceased Ambassador Ramirez - a man who I'd known only by reputation for being a bastard - more accounts of the dreaded fever, reinforced popular opinion._

_When I asked about the Queen once breaking into her home and tying them both up, the senorita dismissed that. "Oh, that was all a silly misunderstanding! I thought a shaman was a notorious criminal and aided in his arrest. The Queen accused me of being callous and deserved to be punished! Everything was all sorted out in the end."_

_I simply stared at her. It sounded very flimsy, but I suppose it's not really worth delving deeper into, which is why I just let it lie._

"_Do you personally consider the Queen to be your friend?" I asked the senorita._

"_I would say she's a friend to everyone, Sergeant," she shrugged innocently._

"_Except Montoya, of course," remarked Marta, smiling slightly._

"_Marta! I won't have you speaking like that about our esteemed governor!" she gasped suddenly, pretending to be appalled. The girl was obviously pretending not to agree with her servant, I could see that in her eyes. She was a very good actress. Maybe she was actually the Queen herself, given her father's unsolved murder. That would be reason enough to make her put on a mask, wield swords and ride horses. And she would have to go far to protect her secrets. But I kept my suspicions to myself. Because they were just that: suspicions._

_Marta was very cooperative. I felt I could trust her. Her lemonade certainly surprised me. I wasn't expecting to enjoy it enough to ask for a second glass. Like her mistress, friendly and kind._

_She said to me, "You should know, Sergeant, that the Queen ISN'T evil."_

"_I hope to find out for myself, Marta," I replied. "Thank you for your time. And the same to you, Senorita Alvarado."_

"_Oh, Sergeant," she smiled, stopping me from leaving. "Would you and Maria like to join us for dinner sometime?"_

_I paused for a moment to consider carefully my reply. I chose to respect her privacy regarding her father, and what happened with Esperanza Garcia., and then said, "My wife speaks very highly of you, Tessa. Having seen what you've done for all these workers, your contributions to the fiesta and so on…I can see why she liked you instantly."_

"_And do you feel the same way?" she asked me._

"_If my experiences have taught me anything, Senorita…it's that there's so much more to people then they let on."_

_I told her that we'd be delighted to accept the invitation and thanked her again. I wonder if the noblewoman viewed me differently after hearing what I said._

_Finally, I'd spoken to Don Gaspar Hidalgo and his wife Vera. When I'd been introduced to the Dons shortly after my arrival, Hidalgo wasn't someone I particularly cared for. His protests and criticisms of Montoya were understandable, but I got the impression that he only spoke against something when he had the spine to do so, and that he cared too much about being in his own happy little world. Nevertheless, his wife had had infamous encounters with the Queen. So it seemed logical to question her. The fact that I now know she's having an affair with Grisham seemed to make her fearful of me. Which meant her cooperation was assured, even though I didn't want it to be like that._

_Gaspar seemed to be cooperative by default._

_I asked about the Queen contributing a fortune to the people, rumoured to have belonged to the deceased Don Horatio, which she'd kept out of the state's hands. Hidalgo conceded that the Queen was indeed charitable, and acknowledged that she'd saved Vera's life, helped the rich as well as the poor, such as Don Andres six months ago, who had been framed for forging deeds to land, but there was a lot Hidalgo was keeping tight-lipped about. Merely giving credit where credit was due. Obviously he wasn't going to do anything to compromise himself or Vera, which I respected. For a moment._

_When I asked Vera about when she was kidnapped by a man called Barnardo, Gaspar seethed and then smiled condescendingly, "Sergeant, must you really persist in bothering me and my petal over long-forgotten and irrelevant matters?"_

"_I don't mean to invade your privacy, Don Hidalgo…but there is a lot going on in this town that I don't know about. And in order to fulfil my duty, I need to know details so I can protect and serve the people efficiently and completely."_

"_You need not concern yourself with incessant investigation. Merely worry about what you are supposed to be doing and knowing your place."_

_I didn't take Hidalgo's patronising as well as I should have._

"_Don Hidalgo, I have been fighting horrific wars and the worst kind of scum for twenty years, and most of the time, the only reward I crave is the knowledge that people will see tomorrow. But in order for that to happen, there are times when I need help. Is cooperation from people REALLY that much to ask for?"_

"_From where I come from, the less people know, the safer they are," he smiled at me. "Ignorance is bliss, after all."_

_Any respect I had for the Don vanished altogether at that point._

"_Well, the problem I have, sir…is that I cannot afford the luxury of comfy chairs and worrying about much longer I have to wait until the next goblet of wine and helping of trifle. There are actually people who have to work in order to keep the innocent alive outside of your little abode."_

_It was worth watching Gaspar's fat face redden. Maybe I crossed the line, but as we Americans like to say, "Don't dish it out, if you can't take it." Vera stepped in at that point, comforting her husband, "Darling, the sergeant has come all the way from Spain to do us all a great service. The very least we can do to show our appreciation is aid him in his quest. I know it upsets you talking about such things, but I am perfectly alright. Why don't you have a lie down? The servants will wake you before dinner."_

_Hidalgo smiled gently, "I think I will, my petal. You help the good sergeant with what he needs. If you are sure?"_

_Vera nodded and the Don left, giving me a quick glare before leaving. I apologised to Vera and she dismissed it, saying he's very sensitive. An uneasy silence fell over us, which I broke by calling her husband 'a good man' just to make conversation. She nodded painfully, agreeing that he was better then she deserved._

_Talking to Vera, I immediately realised she was one very complicated person. It was evident she loved her husband, yet she loved Grisham just as much. It made me think if the captain actually loved her, or just saw her as a toy. That would make more sense. I also felt that Vera would do anything for him, including acting as a spy for the captain, and Montoya._

_When I asked her about the Queen saving her life, all the things she did for the people, Vera said it was so exciting to be saved by the Queen and she'd boasted about it to all her friends. She then told me of when Santa Helena had been taken over by the mysterious 'Hanged Man', the Queen had actually rallied the Don's wives to save their husbands. Vera had quelled protests from certain mistrusting ladies, and actually vouched for the vigilante, deciding to trust her. In the end, the Dons were saved and the 'Hanged Man' called Krane was captured by the Queen. Grisham actually saved the town and Montoya from a gunpowder trap set to go off and was credited as being a real hero._

_That I took with a pinch of salt._

_The stories that the Queen had actually attacked Vera and put her into a coma were dismissed as being completely false. Vera told me it was merely an accident, and the story simply got out of hand resulting in a wrongful marshal law which was later repealed. Again, it sounded of a Montoya/Grisham set-up, but Senora Hidalgo didn't say anything more._

_Nowadays, the Queen is a favourite gossip piece amongst the 'girls'. They like to chat about what dashing deeds she has performed, how they'd like to be saved by her, recount experiences of how she saved their lives or husbands' lives, the recent church incident again etc. I asked if anyone feared and mistrusted the Queen now, and Vera dismissed, "A few people are still jealous of her, but that's all really. She's long been accepted."_

_Senora Hidalgo said she respected and admired the Queen of Swords, and knew she could count on her to do the right thing. I gave my thanks and asked her to pass my apologies along to her husband. I turned to leave and then she stopped me._

"_Sergeant Williams?"_

"_Yes, ma'am?"_

"_About…what you saw that time…" Obviously she was referring to me walking in on her and Grisham, "there is a perfectly rational…"_

"_Vera," I interrupted, "I am not stupid. And neither are you. And as I also said, I am no rat."_

_She looked at me warily, still not convinced that I was trustworthy. I could easily expose her if I wanted to. But I didn't want to, because I knew what it would mean for her if I said anything._

"_Your secret is perfectly safe with me," I smiled genuinely, saluting her. "At your service, ma'am."_

_Vera smiled back in relief, and then I left. We haven't said anymore about it since. Maria figured it all out for herself last week without me or anyone else having to tell her. And she's keeping the secret, too. I think it's commonplace that everyone knows about Vera's affair except her stupid husband._

_So that's more or less everything I was able to find out about the Queen of Swords. Everything from news stories, to reports, to gossip to character-witnesses. She's clearly not a bandit or a thief. She's a vigilante, fighting a corrupt governor and his private army, all for the people._

_She's certainly not like any other vigilante I've encountered before. This one knows what she's doing. And she actually cares._

_Bullets and masks ring through my mind again. Bad experiences are still haunting me. And even though I now know what the Queen of Swords is, that still doesn't make everything all right. What kind of a community is this when the people depend on a woman in a mask and fear soldiers that murder and pillage? A horrible, depressing one, that's what kind it is._

_And I've got to do something about it._

_As well as the corruption in this army._

_I knew all the upstaging the other sergeants, disciplining lazy troops, serving the people and mouthing off to Montoya and Grisham would get me into trouble one day. I'm an enemy in everyone's eyes now. Except my friends and comrades from Spain, who I saw for the first time earlier today. After a month._

_It was good to see them. Even more so after what happened._

_It was in the afternoon when this little punch-up started. Outside the jailhouse, in the grounds of the fort no less, where soldiers like to train and work out. Be it duelling with swords, bare fist fighting, initiation, humiliating others or simple exercise._

_It started out as simple exercise. Me doing press-ups and weight lifts, then hammering away at a punching bag. When I heard chuckles behind me._

"_Hey, Williams!" mocked Alonzo with his sniggering platoon. "Only REAL men are allowed here!"_

"_Go back to beating up your own mother, Alonzo," I retorted, still punching away. "Or whatever helps you pretend you're tougher than you actually are."_

_Some of his men smirked at that. The 'fearless' sergeant silenced them with eyes as intimidating as a rabbit's. Trying his hardest not to cry, Alonzo walked up to me and said, "Words is all you are, Golden Boy! Action is what I am! Bet your woman would like to see some of that."_

"_This coming from a man who hasn't a hope in hell of scoring," I laughed back, not ceasing my exercise. "Except maybe with his own sister."_

_The soldiers behind us all gasped and laughed. I could tell Alonzo was boiling and trying to keep his moustache on. He let the humiliation sink in, then gave me his best cheap shot._

"_I could take you in an instant! Then I'd take your whores for my own!"_

_I put my fist through the punching bag and then turned round so that everyone could see what I was capable of. Sand poured out of the bag profusely. I could see on all their expressions that none of these pansies were as capable as I. They slowly backed away from me, letting them see my expression._

_Alonzo's knees started to turn to jelly. He couldn't even pretend to act tough now as I got in his face. He was just about to blubber when I grinned at him to, "Give me your best shot."_

_It took a full five seconds for the thug to smile evilly back. He cracking his knuckles, then began weaving from side-to-side, ready to wind up and give me a punch._

_I couldn't be bothered waiting, so without even looking I casually hit my fellow sergeant in the nuts and then floored him with a wild upwards swing. The jab to his balls was just to show him how easy it was to embarrass him. The uppercut was to show that I could knock him and his teeth out with no effort at all. As well as break his jaw. Shutting Alonzo up for a while might actually do everyone a world of good._

_Everyone else had stopped playing to see what I'd just done. Alonzo's men had all backed off completely. The other soldiers looked as though they were going to rush me all at once. I thought that I might have a problem on my hands when Grisham's voice shouted, "Anytime, anyplace…is here and now, Williams. Think you can back up your words? In front of your own boys?"_

_I let my face widen with surprise as all of my men followed Grisham onto the ground, as per his orders. They obviously looked miserable, and hadn't taken to being scattered throughout Montoya's ranks that well. They'd been misused and mistreated, I didn't need details. Everything was written on their faces._

_The moment they all saw me, they smiled. Then the captain ordered everyone to form a circle…and enjoy the show._

_Two hands behind shoved me towards Grisham. A boot tripped me over, making me look a bit of a fool. The entire garrison must have been assembled for this. Fifty soldiers, all in Montoya's pocket and solidly behind Grisham. With the twelve soldiers I brought with me from Spain, cheering me on._

_It was doubtless Grisham's way of teaching me some respect. By humiliating me in front of my own men, to the delight of all the other corrupt scum._

_My mouth's still swollen. Hurts just to think about how hard Grisham kicked me whilst I was trying to pick myself up off the ground. He took his shirt off, laughed and then kicked me hard in the ribs. His men laughed and cheered. I don't recall my men ever being more supportive of me like this afternoon._

_I got myself up to one foot, and looked up to be greeted by a hard and fast left-right combination which left me eating dirt once again. I looked up again to see Grisham, hands on hips, just shake his head at me in pity. Then he laughed again, his monkeys chanting his name._

_I wondered what Montoya must have been thinking. He was obviously watching. And even though I didn't see it at the start, I knew he would be grinning in smug delight, shaking his head over Grisham's behaviour or studying the whole affair with interest._

"_Look's like the Golden Boy's one of the fool's variety," remarked Grisham. "Talk about overrated."_

_Contemptuous of me, he let me get to my feet, still sporting that stupid grin. I studied him, noting his size and build. Being a disgusting animal makes him dangerous. The fact that he exercises and practices so strictly every day says a lot about his skill and fighting ability. And he's in his very early thirties, about a decade younger than me, which means he's faster. Hungrier._

_But I'm not an animal. I'm a tamer._

"_That all you got, punk?" I dared, after spitting a wad of blood at his feet. He just shook his head, laughed and threw a fast, concentrated strike for my face. I blocked it with my left forearm, and swung with a hard right of my own, connecting with his face. I followed it with a left, a punch to the gut and then a boot to his jaw._

_I didn't break his jaw, his ribs, knock his teeth out or rupture any arteries. I just made sure he felt the pain, and let him know I could do some serious damage to him if he asked for it. My men were alive at this point, shouting, "Go, Lionel!", "That's our sergeant!" "Power to the Golden Boy!". Grisham's men jeered and booed as the captain clutched his side and nursed his jaw._

_I was weaving and smiling. My turn to mock him. "Some captain," I scoffed. "No wonder the Queen's whipped your overrated ass so many times."_

"_This coming from the man who claims he took down Napoleon!" Grisham snapped, evidently surprised and ticked off. "Got humiliated by her on his first day and then spent the rest of his first week crying over some dead peasant!"_

"_That all you got, punk?" I asked him again._

"_As if, Sergeant!" he yelled before coming at me again. This time he went for a tackle. His speed surprised me as he took me down to the ground hard, really keen to damage my ribs._

_It all became a blur at that point, as we wrestled along the ground, exchanging hard, brutal blows during the rumble. I can remember my men realising that I was on top at one point, laying into Grisham. Their shouts were actually drowning the much larger body of men that were under Montoya. Speaking of which, I still didn't catch sight of him. Obviously because I was too busy giving my captain what he deserved. On reflection, I suppose the colonel may have been admiring the fact I was no pushover even more. Given how he looked at me afterwards._

_Grisham's supporters were starting to grow concerned at one point. He'd just given me a black eye, when I kicked him off me and then asked if he liked injured ribs so much. We were now both back on our feet when he attempted to break my nose. I thanked him for the opening, when I caught his arm, twisted it behind his back and then tripped him up. He landed awkwardly and I still held onto his arm, slamming it over my knee as he came down._

_The screams the move caused were intentional. I didn't intend to break his arm, just wrench it out of the shoulder joint. Doctor Helm was able to pop it back into place and it'll be fully healthy again soon. Still, it sent Grisham a clear message about what I can do if provoked._

_All his supporters fell silent, mesmerized by what had transpired. Grisham continued to cry in agony and I let him go. He slowly got up to his feet, dislocated shoulder, limp arm, and bruises now his new companions. And he looked at me with fire in his eyes. I asked him casually if he'd had enough. He screamed, "Only your heart will be enough, Williams!"_

_I'd noticed the knife in his boot earlier on. He'd hidden it well, but during the tumble, I caught a glisten of something strapped to his leg that nearly blinded me. Had it not been for the sun and his pant leg rolling up for a moment, I think the crafty bastard would've gutted me for sure._

_Montoya's angry shout at Grisham went unheard. The animal became possessed and his speed nearly planted the blade into my stomach. I caught his wrist, grabbed his throat and then started choking him, which brought Grisham to his knees. I casually took the knife out of his hand and raised it to the crowd like I wanted to take his eyes out. I could tell Grisham's supporters were about to draw their weapons and open fire on me. My men were ready to do the same to them. Montoya was about to put a stop to this when I just smiled and dropped the blade to the approval of my men._

_I made the captain stand on his feet, let go of his neck, gave him a right and a left to stagger him. And then finished things with my specialty. A head butt to knock him out cold._

_All of Montoya's men just stood slack jawed at my victory. All my men rushed over to congratulate and laud me. I shook everyone's hands and patted my friends' shoulders; the weary, battered and thankful victor. I then snapped my head to the other soldiers. All fifty of them were now clearly scared. They'll think twice before messing with me again. And they'll all stay from Maria and Theresa now._

_Especially Grisham._

"_Play time's over, children!" I shouted at them. "Time to go to work!"_

_They all quickly moved out, suddenly remembering that they had jobs to do. I turned to Corporal Marco, one of mine, and nodded towards the unconscious Grisham, "Get the captain to Doctor Helm's office. Don't worry too much about being gentle."_

_An enthusiastic Marco grinned and obliged. I walked away, in serious need of cleaning myself up. As I left the grounds, I bumped into Colonel Montoya, standing arms folded and fire in his eyes._

"_Am I dismissed, sir?" I panted, raising an innocent smirk._

"_I think it's transparently obvious, don't you, Williams?" he snapped, and then stormed off. I snapped him a salute and chuckled. Obviously Montoya's thinking about everything now. He wanted me to kill the Queen and improve the reputation of his army. He can't punish me in any way over what's happened, because I'm too valuable. And he knows my spirit can't be broken, so humiliation and demoralisation are useless. And whilst he's angry, he knows he should be pleased, because I've actually brought his grunts into line, which is what he needs._

_After a hot bath and dinner, facts and victories, I'm starting to feel a little better about things in Santa Helena. Black eye's still sore, ribs still hurt, mouth stings every time I put food to my lips but I can deal with it. All the bruises and aches…the scars…_

_I've got no choice but to deal with it._

_But what do I do now? That's the ultimate question._

_Maria asked me earlier tonight, after hearing me pour my heart out, listening to me moan about my investigations, the constant put downs by Montoya and humiliations from Grisham's men. The injustices that are still going on after all this time, in spite of the Queen's presence, in spite of my ongoing assignment._

_Maria asked me, "What are YOU going to do about it all?"_

_I paused for a moment, then looked into those eyes, which always deserve an answer._

_And I told her truthfully, "I'm going to do the one thing I thought I'd never do. The only thing I can."_

_And that's what I will do. The ONLY thing I can._

_End of log._


	4. Forced Alliances

_Disclaimer: Queen of Swords was created by Fireworks Entertainment, and is owned by ContentFilm. This story is NOT affiliated with the rights holders or the show's original creators. No infringement is intended and no profit is being made. This story is for entertainment purposes only._

_The author would like to thank Robert Vincent for all his valuable support and input._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4: Forced Alliances<strong>

Five men, battered and broken, lay groaning and moaning. Over the floor, across smashed tables and chairs, or buried under barrels. Rum was leaking everywhere, having escaped from barrels that had splintered from impact. The spilt liquor almost covered the whole floor, soaking and staining the clothes of the fallen men, and leaving the owners with quite a mess to clean up. It was just as well that the room was dimly lit, so no one could see all the carnage. It was just as well that no one really bothered with the stores at night, so no one was around to hear the commotion.

Just as well…for a certain sergeant.

The last bandit standing flew across the room, smashing hard against the row of kegs, which now began to leak upon impact. The soldier wouldn't let even him slump to the floor. He pinned him by his throat and began choking him.

"Raiding booze caches now, Ramiro?" tutted Williams, shaking his head. "That desperate for money you'd raid private liquor? I thought you couldn't possibly be anymore pathetic. Obviously, I was wrong."

Ramiro's contused face shifted angrily at the smiling sergeant.

"Still, all this vintage should help you sleep tonight. It'll leave you with a really bad hangover, though. Which'll make your appointment with the gallows that much painful in the morning. Sweet dreams, anyway."

"You let me hang, you'll be too late to stop my brother," warned Ramiro, mockingly. Williams' eyes narrowed.

"We'll see about that."

"Do you wanna take that chance, Williams? Many more people will _suffer_ if I die."

"You were a glorified luggage monkey to your younger brother," laughed Lionel, choking the bandit some more. "What could _you _possibly be trusted with?"

"Alright, alright!" panicked Ramiro, fighting for breath. "It's the Dons! It's the Dons!"

The sergeant's interest then sprouted. Lightening his pressure to allow the bandit to talk more clearly, he asked, "What _about _them?"

"They're _rich_," grinned Ramiro evilly. "Rich, fat piggies that will squeal real good for money. Surprised you didn't know that."

Lionel reasserted his grip. Then took his knife to the bandits' throat.

"Okay! Okay!" pleaded Ramiro. "They're not too happy with your behaviour and performance since you got here. Calling you lazy and rude. Montoya's getting heat for you as well. Which is why they're all gathering together. Discussing a petition to get rid of you both."

"Really? So how does a slimy little toad like you know about this? And Benito for that matter? When Montoya doesn't?"

"My brother's got good spies. Ones who always keep their ears to the wall. And ones who make good servants. I overheard Benito talking about it before he kicked me out. This has only been discussed privately in homes, not in the streets. That's why Montoya doesn't know. The Dons are gathering soon, ripe for the plunder. Maybe if you give me a break, I'll see what I can do to…"

"Where and when?" interrupted Williams, driving the blade closer to his throat. "Then _maybe_…you can have a life sentence."

Ramiro sneered his contempt, then quickly gasped under the pressure, coming out with, "2 'o' clock, Friday morning. Don Vega's hacienda, in his courtyard. Benito's planning to infiltrate the hacienda with his own men. I'd love nothing more than to show the little swine who's boss."

Williams considered all this. Ramiro was a coward who'd do anything to save his own neck, and Benito's planning sounded like this. Satisfied, he released the bandit, letting him slump finally to the floor. More liquor dripped over his head, as the sergeant turned away.

"Have a nice sleep in the cells, Ramiro. Thanks again," he added as he left to call in his troops.

"You're dead, Williams!" shouted the enraged criminal.

"What are you going to do? Tell your brother? Tell Montoya?"

Williams left. His troops would be here shortly to gather up the rabble. Ramiro panted for air and nursed his throat, surveying the ruins of his stupid plan. He then heard slow footsteps emerge from the shadows, gently splashing through the puddles of alcohol.

"You said he wouldn't lay a finger on me!"

"Ah, you looked as though you were doing alright there," downplayed the newcomer.

"Doing better than _you _did, I'd wager."

Ramiro's sniggers were immediately silenced by the sword now pointed at his throat. The wielder just grinned back, highly amused. "You _really_ think so?"

Ramiro gulped, then nodded slightly to the ruins of his gang and scheme.

"Satisfied?"

"Very much so, Ramiro," nodded Grisham. "Very much so."

* * *

><p>The next morning, in Tessa's bedroom. Marta was sat at the dresser reading her tarot cards. Tessa was nearly Queen, having just finished tying up her black bodice. The young Alvarado had a focused look. Not easy to sport, given that she had a lot on her mind right now. Marta turned over one card and placed it on top of the dresser.<p>

"Ten of Wands," declared the Gypsy. "A strong, determined man has come."

"Obviously," remarked Tessa, finding her gloves.

Marta then drew the Queen of Swords. Tessa stopped for a moment to see this, and cocked her head to one side.

"And?" she pressed further.

"Your destinies are _already _intertwined," explained Marta, drawing another card. Then turning it over slowly, it was revealed to be the card of Death. Tessa twitched uncomfortably at the sight of it. Needless to say, she always hated it whenever Marta drew that card.

"This is _not _the end," assured the servant slowly. "Merely a transition. There is one more."

Marta placed the final card on the dresser for her and Tessa to see.

"The Wheel of Fortune," gasped Marta, very surprised. "Your union will change _everything_…forever."

Tessa had finished putting her gloves on and her eyes were now fixed on the Wheel of Fortune.

"So Williams and I _will _become allies?"

"Even if the cards hadn't spoken to me," confessed Marta, looking up to her mistress and friend, "it seemed destined to happen anyway."

"I find that unlikely," retorted Tessa as she turned to get her mask.

"He went from assuming you to be a bandit to recognising you as a vigilante," reasoned Marta, shuffling the rest of her cards together. "And he's seeking out the truth before all else. What does that say to you?"

The young noblewoman sighed anxiously, "That he's a good, honest man. When Esperanza was murdered, I saw his pain. I saw his anger directed at Montoya. He's here to rid Santa Helena of corruption, I know all that. But we're two very different people. I'm still allowed to have my doubts about soldiers after everything I've been through."

"Just as he's surely allowed to have his doubts about those who hide behind masks," Marta pointed out gently. "There's a lot you still don't know about him. Your destinies are similar. That's why they are intertwined. And evidently special."

"What does it mean that Death will draw us closer together?" asked Tessa, slipping her shawl mask on, before pressing warily, "Whose death?"

"_A _death. That's all I know. But it signifies a transition, towards something great. _Which _death it is…it may be irrelevant in the end."

"Death is never irrelevant, Marta!"

"Are you fearing that it will be Maria's?"

The Queen exhaled fearfully before answering, "Yes. I am scared it will be Maria's."

"Tessa…"

"You drew that card before and I lost Antonio," reminded the noblewoman painfully. "You drew it again and Raul died before he could tell me who killed my father. I _hate_ that card."

"Death doesn't always mean the ending of a cycle," assured Marta with vindication. "It can also mean transition into a new state or finishing up! You must have faith! Focus on the Wheel of Fortune."

The Queen of Swords looked down on the floor for a moment, sighed and then nodded, "I'll try, Marta. I just…I just wish I knew for myself."

"Do you know why you invited the sergeant to dinner?"

"No."

"Well, maybe if you can figure _that _out…you can figure out the rest."

The masked Tessa sighed again decisively, "I hope it means trust and friendship. Really, I do. But I'll _have _to figure it out later."

The Queen strapped her sword to her side, and then left the room, saying to Marta, "Right now, I've got work to do. I'm not failing the Garcias _again_."

* * *

><p>"Colonel Montoya," began Don Vega, walking alongside the governor and his captain in the main street outside the military headquarters, "when you persuaded the Dons to fund your request for reinforcements from Spain, you said to us that our investments would reap mighty rewards. It's been well over a month now…and we have yet to see your promised results."<p>

"Don Vega, you must understand that change in our war against crime simply does not happen overnight…"

"Don't insult my intelligence, Montoya!" snapped Vega, his patience sorely tested. "You've _had _your precious additional troops and nothing more has come from it! Our community is still being threatened by bandits! Surely _some _progress should've been made by now!"

The colonel stopped to stare down the Don. Vega had always been antagonistic towards the governor. And what made him such difficult opposition was that he was honest as well as intelligent.

"Perhaps the news of the bandit Ramiro's arrest last night, conducted by Sergeant Williams, has eluded you," remarked Montoya. "Personally, it does not surprise me that such important news would filter slowly to someone who couldn't care less about…"

"The apprehension of a pitiful clown who raids liquor stores is _hardly _what I call progress, colonel."

"Bet he hardly calls flapping his gums real progress to the situation, either," muttered Grisham.

"When I want the opinions of glorified lap dogs, captain," Vega turned menacingly, "I will give them a biscuit."

The Don ignored Grisham's dirty look and turned back to the governor. "Colonel…I was completely against this notion of bringing more manpower over from Spain. Because I personally feel you care much more about building your dream empire then serving your people. If it hadn't been for several of my fellow Dons…'somehow' changing their minds, your request would have been _vetoed_. Do not forget that."

"Tell me, Don Vega," began Montoya, regarding his adversary as though he were a stupid hypocrite, "how can you have these expectations if you are against me? When my interests are clearly the same as yours? Enforcing the law upon these animals with more effective manpower."

"You should've been able to do your job with what you already had! And yet you _clearly_ seem more focused on either targeting struggling families…or vigilantes that are doing your job better than you!"

"The Queen of Swords is a corrupting influence on Santa Helena. I am most surprised that she has gotten to _you_, too. You, an intelligent, rational man, allowing your judgement to be clouded…"

"That woman saved my daughter's life from that _scum_, El Scorpio, and instead of chasing after _him_, you fire your guns at _her_! _Every time _she saves lives or gives to the people, for that matter! _I _am not surprised at this. Why else would you lie to the Dons about her, just so you could get Gaspar to approve your precious marshal law? _Do _tell me, colonel. I am _most _eager to hear the latest spin that comes out of your mouth."

Montoya seethed angrily, secretly cursing Vega's opposition and acumen. He would _never _live the marshal law down. Thanks to Grisham, who he reminded with an intimidating glance.

"Don Vega…" he began again, trying to keep his temper.

"Enough! The facts are that the situation in Santa Helena has not changed, your reinforcements have not delivered, you are wasting time over tax payments and ownership of land, and the Queen of Swords is where we should be placing our faith in. I will meet with my fellow Dons and tell them that you have failed to fulfil your obligations. You can expect a petition shortly requesting _immediate removal _of your…"

The faint sound of people cheering suddenly came into earshot. Vega's fierce expression loosened with curiosity and he turned to look at what the commotion was all about. Montoya and Grisham also moved to see what was going on. The crowd's cheers were growing louder and louder, and the sight of soldiers riding into town grew nearer and nearer.

"Viva Sergeant Williams!"

"Thank you, Sergeant!"

"Golden Sergeant!"

"Williams! Williams! Williams!"

Peasants were running behind the cavalry in elation, and middle classes were now giving Lionel and his troops a standing ovation. A horse wagon stopped near the entrance to the jailhouse, full of tied up, notorious bandits. Being pulled forward (unceremoniously) by Williams' horse was the bandits' captured and ruthless leader, El Scorpio. A savage animal who murdered and pillaged everywhere he went. And had evaded capture every time he committed a crime.

Until today.

Soldiers formed a blockade to keep back the swarming, cheering crowd. Williams halted his horse and then jerked the rope attached to his saddle to make Scorpio fall flat on his face. The sergeant then dismounted and cut the tow rope. Don Vega's face was content, but inside he was much more impressed. Montoya looked to the fallen murderer, his indifferent features masking both his humiliation and satisfaction. Williams had upstaged him again, yet in doing so, had given the military more positive publicity.

Grisham's face, still visibly battered from his fight with Williams, simply stared at his sergeant with great disdain, as he grabbed Scorpio by the back of the neck and made him stand up. Williams, likewise still sporting contusions, acknowledged his superiors.

"Colonel Montoya. Captain Grisham," he greeted professionally.

"Well done, sergeant," nodded the governor, before casually turning to Don Vega, "Do you still doubt my promises now, Vega? And where my interests lie?"

The aristocrat simply raised an eyebrow at Montoya. He turned to Williams who asked, "I take it you _obviously _know this man, Don Vega."

"_Obviously_, sergeant," he snorted, as El Scorpio, sporting a bloody mouth and forehead, grinned at him.

"How's your daughter, amigo?"

"Alive and well," admitted the Don, before giving the bandit a vicious slap across the face, almost knocking him out of Williams' grasp. The sergeant then turned to two of his troops and ordered them to, "Put him and the rest of his filth in the cells." He then shoved El Scorpio away to cement his victory.

"Don Vega, I apologise you have had to wait this long for justice," said Williams, who had respected and admired Vega since the day they'd met.

"_You _have nothing to apologise for, sergeant," dismissed the aristocrat, equally respectful. "Excellent work."

"Thank you, sir."

"I will be sure to tell all my fellow Dons of this, colonel," nodded Vega. "You should consider yourself lucky. That we now have real soldiers to carry you and the captain. You can no longer expect any petition. Good day."

Vega nodded his gratitude to Williams and then left. The crowd cheered more for Williams and then were told to disperse by rude soldiers. The sergeant smiled a little and then considered a moment about the Don. He _had _obviously been conferring with the others about himself and Montoya, but if Vega had changed his mind and was no longer considering removal…would this now invalidate Benito's operation?

"It would seem congratulations are in order, sergeant," nodded Montoya, impressed. "I think it is safe to say you have now redeemed yourself."

"Thank you, colonel," saluted Williams, standing to attention. Grisham's evil eyes pierced into him. The sergeant then turned to his superior and nodded professionally, "Thank you, captain."

"I _wasn't _commending you, Williams," stated Grisham clearly.

"Forgive me, sir. I believed that was the _implication_."

Grisham restrained himself, remembering that Montoya was in front of him. The governor fought an amused smile that was trying to creep on his lips.

"At ease, sergeant," he dismissed with pride. Williams then turned to look in the centre of the town to see the gallows finished being set up.

"I am flattered that you have faith in my abilities, sir," remarked Lionel. "I see a noose was _already _prepared for El Scorpio."

"I'm afraid you misunderstand, my eager sergeant," chuckled Montoya softly. "Your prisoner will have to wait his turn. _This _noose is for Lucia Garcia."

Shock overwhelmed Williams as he looked back to the colonel smiling evilly. Grisham's sadistic grin erupted as Lionel's eyes glanced over both of them. The sergeant discreetly gulped and tried to keep his fear and anger in check.

"Such a shame," sighed Montoya, as he nodded over to the sight of the guards bringing Lucia out to the noose awaiting her. "After all those warnings, the…unfortunate loss of her mother…and she is _still _behind on her tax payments. Clearly too much responsibility for one so young. But she _was warned_. If she wishes to partake in an adult's world, she _must _be prepared for whatever consequences she brings upon herself."

The cruel governor turned to his silent sergeant and asked, "Perhaps you would care to see?"

"Forgive me, colonel," apologised Williams coolly, "but I must make preparations for the next…"

"It is _not _a suggestion, sergeant. It is an _order_."

Williams glanced coldly at the captain, who shrugged, "Orders are orders. You know that."

"If you would like to follow me, Williams," gestured Montoya with delight. "Grisham."

"Right away, sir," saluted the captain as he left to oversee the hanging. Shouting over his shoulder, he laughed, "You're lucky, sergeant! You get to watch the show! I've got to work!"

_Yeah_…thought Lionel as he followed Montoya towards his office balcony. _Lucky_.

Moments later, the crowd was assembled around the gallows. The weeping Lucia, with her head now in the noose, and her younger brothers being held back by a family friend for their own safety, were painfully visible for Lionel to see, as he stood by the ever-smug Montoya's side.

The executioner was right behind Lucia, big, burly and his whole head covered in a horrible black mask. Lionel's eye twitched over the sight of him. His mind flashed back to Spain all those years ago…when his contempt for those who wore masks intensified even more.

The soldiers on guard were ready for anything. Grisham was ready to give the signal. And the smiling devil turned to see his sergeant trying so hard to hide his revulsion.

"I must confess surprise," admitted Montoya casually. "One who does so much to feed the execution machine…lacks the stomach to appreciate what he himself has created."

"Why are you making me watch this?" asked Williams coldly, before thinking to himself, _As if I don't already know._

"Because," said Montoya, simply. "You need not shed tears over this family of criminals. Good _will _come out of _them_. Their land and holdings will help finance the state in our war against crime. And the two brothers shall be put up for adoption, where they will find a new home and life."

_Does the home and life include ball and chains, prison bars or simply five seconds before a noose?_ thought Lionel.

"Captain Grisham!" shouted the colonel. Grisham grinned like an excited child at his superior and then turned to mock Williams, who just glared at him.

"Executioner!" shouted the captain, as he raised his sword up high. He let it glisten in the sun, as the burly executioner clutched the trap door lever tightly. Lucia closed her eyes ready to face the end. Her angry, despairing brothers continued to struggle to free themselves from the protective adult. A great silence fell over the sickened crowd.

Montoya smiled. Williams closed his eyes.

"Now!"

The executioner prepared to pull the lever but out of nowhere, the Queen's whip ensnared round his neck, choking him and making him let go of the lever. The crowd erupted into another uproar of approval, matching the one they'd given the sergeant earlier. The vigilante pulled hard, grimacing over the weight of the bulky executioner. Thankfully, he was too deep in surprise and couldn't help but stumble backwards as the Queen pulled him off the gallows stage. The executioner landed hard on the ground before, on the back of his head, knocking him out cold.

"KILL HER!" yelled Montoya, as the Queen climbed onto the stage, to the wild approval of all the peasants, middle classes and aristocrats. She swung her sword and cut the rope, freeing the grateful Lucia from the crossbeam, much to the delight of her excited brothers. Williams couldn't help but raise a small smile of relief. It soon vanished when he saw soldiers raise their rifles at the Queen.

"Hold your fire!" ordered Williams from the balcony. "There's too many people! Disperse the crowd and move in with swords!"

The confused soldiers hesitantly lowered their weapons as they looked to an angry Grisham who barked, "Just shoot her, you morons!"

"Colonel!" implored Williams.

"Do as the sergeant says!" barked Montoya, having no time for bickering right now, and fearful of reprisals from the Dons if any rich snob was caught in the crossfire. "Grisham, move in close and kill them both!"

The captain sneered angrily and drew his own sword, taking a squad with him as they sprinted for the gallows, where the other soldiers moved in to hold the cheering people back.

"Be thankful your orders were sound, sergeant," snapped the governor. "I punish people severely who seek to undermine me."

"Get down!" yelled the Queen to Lucia as soldiers climbed up onto the stage to engage her. Lucia lay down, putting her hands on her head, as the Queen ducked and weaved, parrying the soldiers' swords, quickly disarming them and knocking them off the stage. She then turned to see Grisham and four men all run up the steps to her. She was ready for them though and quickly took out a small net she'd brought with her, and flung it at the rabble coming at her. The net expanded in the air, becoming much larger as it unfolded and engulfing Grisham and his men. They all struggled to fight the inconceivable mesh and fell backwards together down the steps, uncontrollably punching and kicking each other as they fought to get free.

"Better luck next time, captain!" beamed the Queen before turning to help the young Garcia to her feet.

"Come on, Lucia!"

The people continued to cheer. Doctor Helm was among the crowd, and again, he couldn't help but smile in pleasure and approval as he saw the Queen of Swords once again perform another miracle. He then turned to look up to the balcony to see the colonel fuming as always, much to the doctor's delight. Then he saw Sergeant Williams and considered him thoughtfully. Their conversation a few weeks back hadn't changed his overall verdict of Williams, but his willingness to listen to the truth about the Queen and Santa Helena had made Helm realise that Williams was actually here to help.

Williams' small smile, hidden from Montoya's sight, gave away his satisfaction over the vigilante's latest exploit.

Within seconds, the Queen had Lucia by the hand and they were soon on horseback, with Montoya screaming at his soldiers to get after them. The Queen's eyes caught Lionel's eyes at one point. They were both smiling. But seconds after their eyes met, Tessa and Williams' smiles dropped, both still unsure.

"Williams!" barked Montoya angrily. "Why are you standing there? Shoot her!"

"I'm afraid I can't, sir," explained Williams regretfully. "You suggested I should stay away from the Queen. I know it was a _suggestion_…but your suggestions are really _orders_, aren't they? And I should be following them to the letter. Besides, you are a colonel. And I am just a mere sergeant. What could _I_ possibly do against a bandit?"

Montoya looked as though he was about to explode over Williams' frustrating, insolent acumen. But the excited people screaming, "Queen!", "Viva the Queen!" and "God bless you, Queen!" made him look to see the vigilante and Lucia ride hard and fast out of town. Applause, cheers, laughs and the silent, smiles of approval from Doctor Helm and Don Vega said it all. Another glorious victory for the champion of Santa Helena.

The colonel and the sergeant then turned to see that Grisham was the first to finally escape from the net. He got to his feet and kicked the huddle of trapped soldiers angrily, screaming abuse and calling them useless.

"I should not despair, colonel," remarked Williams innocently. "After all…you still have El Scorpio's death to look forward to. I will prepare the gallows again. Hopefully, _this _execution should go without interruption. Please excuse me, I have preparations to attend to."

And he left before the seething Montoya could say another word.

* * *

><p>Much later, the masked Tessa had successfully eluded the pursuers and had managed to return safely to the Garcia Ranch. She halted her horse just outside the house and Lucia got off.<p>

"We've lost them," assured the Queen. "Montoya won't come after you again, I give you my word. Your brothers will be home shortly."

Lucia smiled weakly, her eyes still weeping and nodded, "Thank you."

The vigilante gave a painful sigh and looked down on the ground before daring to look at Lucia with eyes filled with remorse and saying, "I'm so sorry about your mother. If I'd have known earlier…I swear I was preoccupied… "

The twenty-one-year-old Lucia exhaled painfully and interrupted, "I don't blame you for anything. Neither do my brothers. They came in the middle of the night when we weren't expecting anything. I'm tired of hating, I'm tired of fearing…I just…I just want a normal life for us. That's all my parents wanted. That's all _we_ want."

"I know. And I _swear _you'll get it. The fiesta's only three weeks away. I can keep Montoya occupied with other things so he won't harass you."

Lucia looked over all her father's land that she was now fighting to keep. All the animals and crops that her parents had built up from nothing, and she had helped prosper as she grew up.

"When my father was still alive," began Lucia, smiling in remembrance, "he always said that we would plant and grow, raise and look after. And we would give to the people, and they would give to us. When he died, people doubted if his dream could live on without him. Montoya always wanted to take everything from us. My mother tried so hard, I did all I could to help her…but the odds were against us."

"You were able to fight back though," remarked the Queen earnestly. "Business was picking up for you. You were able to make profit again."

"Thanks to Mrs Williams," conceded Lucia, shedding a grateful tear. "She took pity on us when my mama was murdered. She helped us out in her own spare time to help run the farm…bought all her meat, vegetables, eggs and milk from us, put word out…we were able to pick up all the old customers we lost, make our deliveries on time again, and we were slowly starting to get on top of our tax payments. And then Montoya struck again."

"You're still winning, Lucia," encouraged the vigilante. "You've shown that you can run this place as well as your father. You're high on the list of people the fiesta's going to help. A lot of money is going into the fundraiser and so much more will be made on the day itself. Just keep going and when it's all over the land will be yours. The people are all helping you, because you're a cause worth fighting for. Remember that."

Lucia breathed in deep contemplation and then turned back to the masked Tessa, asking with concern, "What about Sergeant Williams?"

The question took the Avenging Angel by surprise. "What about him?" she asked hesitantly.

"The night after my mother died…he came to my house to apologise, and give me a bag of reales to help. I slammed the door in his face because I was scared. And then I remembered, you and he saved my mother's life from that soldier. Maybe I was wrong to fear him, because I think he means well. And after meeting his wife…"

Lucia looked up to the Queen again and asked, "What do _you _think?"

_I don't know_, thought Tessa. _But I can't tell Lucia that. But how can I tell her something I don't know if I believe in yet?_

The Avenging Angel paused and then answered, "I don't think Williams is like everyone else. You have a right to be suspicious but not forever. A time's going to come where you may give him the benefit of the doubt. A friend of mine told me that we must have faith. And I think we should."

Lucia thought about this long and hard. The right people were helping her because they had faith in her. Just as she and everyone else had faith in the Queen to keep them safe.

"I have to go now, Lucia," nodded the masked Tessa as she turned to ride off.

"Queen."

The vigilante stopped to look at the girl who began to smile optimistically, "I needed to hear that. About Sergeant Williams, about people, about faith…thank you. For everything."

The Queen of Swords smiled back and then rode away. Thinking herself that maybe it was time to start listening to Marta's advice after all.

_Focus on the Wheel of Fortune._

* * *

><p>Back in Montoya's office…<p>

"First he fouls up that operation to kill the Queen and costs us the Garcia land," reasoned a highly annoyed Grisham. "Then he humiliates me in front of our own men, shows us up in front of Don Vega and all of Santa Helena, has the nerve to order us not to shoot and save us a world of grief, refuses point-blank to kill the Queen…and he constantly mouths off to us and acts like he can get away with it…"

"Two sides to everything, Grisham," silenced Montoya, burying his own emotions under a sea of clarity. "There is the personal side. And the business side. Personally, I would love nothing more than to agree wholeheartedly with your criticisms of Williams and subsequent suggestions of what to _do _with the Golden Sergeant. He is indeed rude, insolent and a problem that could blow up in our faces."

"I think he already _has_, sir."

"No, captain. Not yet. On the business side of things, his presence here in Santa Helena _is _working. He has effectively started moulding this army into the force it should be. He's highly skilled at organising the rabble, stamping down on bothersome bandits like El Scorpio and he's giving me the good publicity I desperately needed. The Dons are starting to feel less critical of me, the people are feeling safer, and are asking less questions. As infuriating as the situation is, it's also benefiting me."

"So what are we gonna do, then?" sighed the captain, impatiently. "Just sit back and take it?"

"Quell your murderous urges. Williams is not a stupid man. He knows how to tread thin ice without falling through, which is testament to his expertise. But at the same time, he cannot do anything to stop us without jeopardising himself and his family. It remains a delicate stalemate situation for both parties…but one that may hopefully turnaround in my favour on Friday morning at two 'o' clock."

Grisham remembered suddenly and nodded in agreement with the grinning colonel. But a few doubts had crept into his mind that he hadn't been able to shake.

"Williams may have taken the bait," said the captain, "but he's not stupid enough to go after prize fish alone."

"What real choice does he have?" laughed the colonel. "He is still isolated from his own, very busy men. There is no one else he can trust. And thanks to Don Vega, who was good enough to let slip that such a meeting _will _take place to the sergeant, Williams will know that Ramiro's claims are as good as corroborated."

Montoya then laughed again, "What a pity Ramiro was so confused. Couldn't remember exactly _what week _the Dons were gathering."

"And now he's too dead to remember anything," sniggered Grisham. "Ah, these would-be escapees never get the message, do they?"

"And with the good Don and his family leaving their hacienda for a nice getaway on Thursday night…we of course have to be ever alert for possible break-ins that may occur."

"Whoa, whoa," came in Grisham, putting his hand up asking his superior to explain. "Are you sure it's a good idea framing the Golden Boy and then killing him? Don't think the Spanish Court are gonna take that seriously."

"Whoever said _anything _about _framing _him?" asked the governor as he poured himself some brandy into a shot glass. "That would make me, the whole Spanish army _and _the Royal Court look bad and laughable, with such a symbol of hope turning out to be just as corrupt as the rest of the world."

"So?"

"Consider yourself lucky that I'm starting to feel in a positive, tolerant mood, Grisham," advised Montoya as he handed his captain a glass of liquor. "Williams is a symbol of hope that I have given to Santa Helena. And I will generously increase the prestige of that gift…by making him into a _martyr_. He dies at the hands of bandits trying to defend a Don's home. The bandits die resisting arrest and therefore cannot dare to speak against a colonel's word, Vega speaks highly of Williams, me and the army after all our work, the people continue to support and trust us, and the Royal Court are satisfied with the investigation into his great sacrifice. No questions asked, I remain safe."

Grisham snorted an impressed laugh, and raised his glass, suggesting, "To the memory of Sergeant Lionel Williams?"

"To a true Golden Boy," nodded Montoya evilly, as they toasted each other and drank. After they'd finished, Montoya ordered Grisham to get word to Benito and make sure all the final preparations were in place. They then both left the room, none the wiser to a silent Queen who had been eavesdropping outside the window on the balcony.

* * *

><p>Three nights later, all was peaceful in Santa Helena, which the population was certainly appreciating. In this latest quiet time, it was just guards patrolling, being on the lookout for thieves or any other sign of trouble.<p>

Sergeant Williams would've much preferred to spend the evening with his family. He'd been promised that he would have tonight off after working the last few evening patrols. He'd come home early in the morning, to only five hours sleep before being called back into daily duty, then straight on into the nightshift. Montoya had changed his mind about relieving him this night, and the next two days for recuperation. Doubtless as another attempt to break him, by keeping him away from Maria and Theresa and working him beyond the point of exhaustion.

_Compared to Napoleon, this is a walk in the park, Montoya, _thought Williams, as he walked down the corridors on his own. _Still…I would like to be home tonight. And if I'm doing morning again tomorrow, I'm not gonna have much time to rest before Benito makes his move._

_The colonel's doing a very good job of isolating me from my comrades. Haven't seen any of them since my fight with Grisham. All either on errands out of town or preoccupied with strategic meetings…no one else to trust but me to stop a bandit and his army._

_Still, with all the other Dons talking about this meeting, Vega's guards on standby, should be able to end Benito once and for all. The Dons may not be expecting bandits to interrupt their party, but the bandits won't be expecting me to turn the tide._

_Arthur Wellesley would be proud to see I haven't changed._

Williams then sighed as his patrolling took him outside.

_Would prefer not to fight THIS war on my own, though. Not used to it._

Williams had just passed the liquor stores when he heard the sound of a bottle smashing inside. He stopped and sharply turned his head to the entrance. Trying the latch, Lionel immediately discovered that the door was still locked shut. The sergeant slowly drew his pistol and took out the set of keys he'd been trusted with. He slowly unlocked the door and cautiously entered the stores, staying alert for the first sign of trouble.

Everything had been cleaned up and repaired after Williams' foiling Ramiro's raid, yet there was still a stench of spilt booze and great stains all over the ground. Nothing new here, except for a smashed bottle of wine on the floor, right in the middle of the room. The sergeant looked from side-to-side, then over his shoulder. A lantern remained lit and glowing in the far corner of the room. Whoever had done this was obviously still here…and being very quiet until the time was right.

Williams turned back to the remains of the bottle, to look at the label. He knelt down to examine the shards of glass and carefully picked up the large fragment with the sticker still attached.

_Rioja, 1778. Montoya's favourite vintage. His last bottle. Irreplaceable._

The door then slammed shut suddenly, making the sergeant raise his pistol in the right direction.

_No wind_, realised Williams. _Doubtful it's a trap, more of a distraction to…_

The sergeant then shot up to his feet, his reflexes as sharp as ever. He span round to raise his gun behind him.

The Queen of Swords was leaning against the barrels, arms folded and smiling at the soldier.

"Good evening, sergeant," she waved. Williams' eyes just narrowed at her, his arm remained steady and his trigger finger remained poised.

"You've got an accomplice," realised Lionel. "No way you could have closed that door by yourself from there, or without revealing yourself sooner. That's impossible."

"I do so enjoy hearing your educated guesses."

"I could either shoot you in the head right now…" declared the sergeant icily, "or call for more guards to bring you in."

"Or you could fight me yourself again," shrugged the Queen thoughtfully, before her witty demeanour turned into something much more serious. "But I don't think my death or capture is what you're _really _after."

"Oh?"

"You could've stopped me when I was rescuing Lucia Garcia but you didn't," noted the vigilante. "I thank you for that."

Williams didn't betray any emotion. He just kept his weapon on her. Tessa's smile had long fallen, to be replaced by a look of uncertainty and tiredness. She felt sure that deep down, those were the same emotions that the sergeant was experiencing right now.

"What do you want?" asked Williams, finally choosing to break the silence.

"I wanted to piss Montoya off," she explained simply. "Breaking his favourite drink seemed like a good idea. Doubly so because it also seemed like a good way to get your attention. That's the _real _reason why I orchestrated this little private get together."

Williams refused to lower his weapon. The Queen of Swords then sighed in frustration, imploring, "I want to stop playing _games_, Williams. I want justice and I want the people to be happy and safe. I would've thought _you'd_ known that by now. Surprised to hear you've become quite the fan."

The sergeant then sighed also, lowered his pistol and put it back in his holster. He then walked over to the barrels opposite the row the Queen was leaning against, and raised his forearm to rest against them.

"The people think you're just about the best thing that's ever happened to Santa Helena," remarked Williams, his back turned on the vigilante. "The aristocracy accepts you. My fellows in the army fear and hate you, Grisham thinks you're the biggest pain in the ass imaginable. And Montoya…thinks you're the real scourge of these lands, bringing nothing but pain and suffering to everyone you come into contact with."

"So what do _you_ think?"

"I think…" spat Williams angrily, swinging round to face the indifferent Queen, "that the son of a bitch is _lying_!" He paused before adding, "And he's _very good_ at it."

The corners of the masked Tessa's lips crept upwards.

"Sensible thinking. _Again_."

"I may know what you really are, but that doesn't mean I should trust you," warned the sergeant. "I've encountered vigilantes before. _Several _back in Spain when I was trying to liberate it. And none of them cared about all the innocent people that were in harm's way. As they tried to topple the French power."

"I could say the same thing about _your kind_," rebutted the Queen, her face becoming just as cold. "In my experience, the men who claim to be protecting and serving the people, get much more satisfaction over enslaving them. Or murdering them. Or ruining them. Like the fascist pigs that they are. Just like _Napoleon._"

"I'm not like these corrupt soldiers."

"And I'm not like bandits who also hide behind masks."

Yet another uneasy silence fell over the two of them. Both wanting to trust, yet neither truly willing to concede. Eventually, Williams groaned and came out with, "Touché. Now what was it you wanted to talk to me about?"

"I know of the meeting the Dons are holding," revealed the Queen. "And you need to know it's a trap."

"Why would Vega lie? He said he was meeting with the Dons right in front of me and Montoya."

"It's not taking place at the time Ramiro told you. He and Benito were in on the whole thing with Montoya and Grisham. Why do you think Ramiro died so suddenly after his apprehension?"

Williams _had _suspected his death to be foul play. He knew Ramiro would never settle for life imprisonment but Grisham's fast shooting of the bandit meant that he could never squeal anything else.

Raising an eyebrow at the Queen, he replied, "So what kind of set-up am I about to fall into, then?"

"Does this mean that you're deciding to trust me?"

Lionel paused again, considering. Needless to say, it was a trait of his that was really starting to irritate Tessa. Eventually, he came out with, "After everything I've seen, everything I've learnt so far…the only choice I _have_…is to trust you."

"That's good enough for me."

"Now…are _you _willing to _return _that trust?"

It was the Queen's turn now to once again take everything she'd learnt into account. Everything Marta had told her, her own advice to Lucia and the good the sergeant had done.

"Yes, I am," she spoke truthfully.

"Alright," nodded Lionel, folding his own arms and leaning against the barrels opposite the Avenging Angel. "Where do we start?"

* * *

><p>Friday morning at two 'o' clock, the hacienda of Don Vega. All was quiet and still in the night. Williams made sure to note that upon his arrival. He hadn't been followed, he'd ridden fast and stealthily enough. Montoya had allowed him the whole weekend off to fully recuperate from his day and night patrols, so - hypothetically speaking - the colonel had no reason to suspect Lionel to go wandering off to apprehend a circle of notorious bandits all by himself. Especially when he was 'too tired' to do so.<p>

But as Williams had ventured deeper onto the Don's home ground, he soon discovered the signs of life. Torchlights were burning nicely, candlelight was flickering in some of the rooms and corridors, and the servants and Vega's private guards were indeed on patrol. The greatest source of light was indeed coming from the courtyard, accompanied by the sounds of men's voices. Many of them, in serious discussion.

_Just like Ramiro said_, thought the golden sergeant.

He checked the stables to see several not belonging to Vega, indicating that they were indeed 'guests'. Lionel secretly tied his outside the hacienda's rear entrance as a back-up getaway plan, then made his way inside, carefully and quietly traversing through bushes, patios and hallways, making sure to avoid the guards and servants along the way.

Lionel wasn't quite good enough. He'd failed to spot the eagle eyes of Benito's right-hand man Primo, disguised as a servant.

The sergeant's plan had been to quietly get to the courtyard, find Benito and wait for him to make his move against the Dons. The bandit was far cleverer than Ramiro. It didn't matter if Vega had guards or the Dons themselves were carrying weapons. Benito doubtless knew all the best positions of the Hacienda to effectively pin down hostages under fire, because of information from his expert spies. And he also had enough manpower and dynamite to make everyone surrender. He was certainly crazy enough to go through with such a scheme.

When Benito made his move, Lionel would be there, his pistol to the bandit's head, coercing all the others to surrender. At the end of the day, Benito was a coward like his brother. The only difference was that he didn't show it anywhere near as much as Ramiro had done. And only when the odds were out of his favour did Benito wet himself.

But even if he didn't surrender immediately, it would encourage the Dons and their guards to make their move and turn the tide.

That was the plan, anyway.

Soon enough, Lionel had made it to the Don's courtyard. To hear the sounds of discussion…laughter, and drinking. Not at all the kind of scenario you'd expect from a meeting of aristocrats discussing removal of Montoya and Williams.

Confused, he ventured closer through the bushes, trying not to make a sound and get a proper look.

He didn't see any Dons. He saw Benito and his men helping themselves to Vega's food and wine, enjoying every bit of it.

_The Queen was right_, seethed Williams, angrily. _Damn it._

Suddenly, Primo's handgun was now pressed hard against the side of the soldier's head.

"Come on in, sergeant. Join the party."

Moments later, Williams was restrained by two burly criminals and standing before the grinning Benito, and his men who had their pistols aimed for his head.

"Gentlemen…" declared the bandits' leader proudly, raising his glass of wine, "a toast! To the honourable Sergeant Lionel Williams!"

They all laughed and raised their drinks, cheering mockingly at the soldier. Benito then threw his wine at the Sergeant's face, laughing at him even more.

"God, you're even more stupid than my useless older brother was, aren't you?" smirked the bandit. "You believed everything he said. Not only that, but you thought you could take us all down by yourself."

Williams, his indifferent face still dripping with Vega's stolen wine, now began to grin and chuckle.

"Yeah, it is funny, isn't it?" nodded Benito condescendingly. "Now knowing Montoya set you up to be the biggest fall guy imaginable."

"On the contrary, Benito," dismissed Williams, shaking his head and still grinning. "_That _isn't funny. But I'll tell you the two things that _are _absolutely hilarious."

The arrogant Benito cocked his head with intrigue, implying the sergeant to tell for the sake of last words.

"You think I'm _honourable_," laughed Lionel, highly amused by the concept. His reaction confused the bandit, who let the Golden Sergeant continue.

"I am not or have ever been 'honourable'. Because after fighting motherless bastards like you, after watching rich, powerful dictators oppress the innocent, and seeing arrogant fools blur the line between right and wrong…do you know what I learned right at the start? There's _no such thing _as 'honour'."

The circle of criminals all laughed over that. Benito nodded his head in impressed agreement.

"How very true, sergeant. But tell me…before I grow bored and have my boys riddle you with bullets. What's the _second _thing that's so funny?"

Williams cackled, slightly unnerving several of the bandits. Benito's eyes then narrowed in concern, suspecting something.

Settling down, Lionel explained, "_I'm_ not the one who's more stupid than that useless older Ramiro. It's _you_."

Benito scoffed and then ordered, "Okay, boys! Take aim and make it look good. Our promise to Montoya is as good as _gold_, remember?"

The bandits all readied to fire. But before any of them could pull their triggers, two small stone statues on the balcony above the courtyard fell from their place and landed hard on top of two of the bandits below, smashing into pieces painfully and making them fall to the ground with bleeding, concussed heads.

"Sorry, Don Vega," winced the Queen regretfully. "I'll pay for the statues, I promise."

Everyone immediately turned to look up at the vigilante in shock and despair. The bandits' attention and pistols no longer focused on Williams, the sergeant elbowed one of his captors hard in the stomach, elbowed the other in the face and then put them down with hard fists.

"Kill them both!" yelled Benito, turning back to Williams to fire his weapon. The sergeant was too quick and ripped it out of his hand to point it at the bandit, turning the tables on him.

"Did you really think your right-hand bootlicker could capture me unless I _let _him, Benito?"

Meanwhile, the Queen had brought out a huge net and dropped it over the balcony, right on top of the bandits, trapping a large number of them and rendering them helpless. The surprise had confused the remainder, sending them deeper into bewilderment. The Queen gave a battle cry as she corkscrew-somersaulted from the balcony and into the courtyard below. She drew her whip, twirled it round her head, before cracking it to make the criminals back away. The vigilante then swung wildly, the end of the whip lashing out at the surrounding bandits' hands, making them cry out in pain and relinquish their weapons.

The Avenging Angel recoiled her whip, wrapping it back round her body. Next, she quickly drew her sword and proceeded to fend off the swarm of bandits that decided to rush her. They came at her, and in typical form, she ducked and weaved to evade the attacks, blocking when necessary and twisting her blade at the right angles to fight off and quickly disarm the killers, one after the next.

Benito had remained silent, still and naturally concerned as the Queen continued to take his men apart. And Williams still had the pistol trained on him.

"Like Ramiro, you think too much of yourself," snorted the sergeant.

"Perhaps," admitted Benito, "but _I _always had good reason."

Primo came out of nowhere with his sword to try and run through Williams. The sergeant quickly turned and pulled the trigger, shooting Benito's second right in the chest. The bandit fell to the ground, cold and dead. Taking advantage of the distraction, Benito drew his own sword and attempted to behead Lionel. The soldier rolled to avoid and rose with his own blade unsheathed. They locked swords and then backed away, before renewing their offensives.

Williams had much more experience and skill. But Benito was young, fast, enthusiastic and just as clever a fighter as he was a criminal. He lulled Williams into a false sense of security, allowing the sergeant to use his various attack patterns and triangles to pressure him into surrendering. Making him think the bandit was helpless.

Then he ran right for the sergeant into the path of his sword. Lionel lunged and Benito dived gracefully and speedily right underneath his legs. The bandit came out behind the soldier and was now in a position to slice him in the back. Lionel's skill came into play though and he was able to twist his arm back, blocking the strike with his weapon. Benito then tripped the sergeant with his legs. Lionel fell and quickly rolled onto his back to block Benito's sword from being imbedded in his throat.

Benito grinned slyly at the struggling Williams and quickly pulled his weapon back to inflict a death strike on the sergeant's face. But now it was Williams' turn to surprise. He quickly swung out and the tip of his blade slashed with fast precision on the bandit's ankle. Benito screamed in agony and dropped his sword, immediately clutching his ankle, which began to bleed profusely. He hopped for a second before dropping to the ground, howling over his severed tendon.

"I'm not Achilles, Williams!" he screamed defiantly.

"True," conceded the Sergeant, getting to his feet and smiling over his fallen foe. "He was mostly invulnerable. There's _nothing _invulnerable about you whatsoever."

He then casually raised his fist backwards to knockout the man who tried to attack him from behind. Then he turned to see the smiling Queen, who had long taken care of Benito's men.

"Not bad, sergeant," remarked the vigilante with modest approval.

"Likewise, kid," admitted Williams. This time, Tessa didn't react negatively to the old man calling her a kid. Instead, she felt oddly like attributing it to a special nickname. Before she could say anything else…or before Williams could betray a warm smile, several more bandits, disguised as either Vega's servants or guards, stormed the courtyard, soon surrounding the Queen of Swords and Lionel Williams.

Both vigilante and soldier had their swords drawn, and were now back-to-back, ready to face the next challenge. Ten more bandits to take down. As long as they kept their focus, the two knew they'd be able to handle them easily.

"KILL THEM!" screamed Benito, still rolling on the ground in agony.

"You been in this situation before?" asked a curious Queen.

"Too many times," confirmed Lionel. "Ladies first!"

"Spoken like a true gentleman!"

One bandit lunged forward to impale the sergeant. He ducked and the vigilante swung round, smacking the criminal's weapon out his grasp with her own sword. The surprised thug backed away, only to be floored by the rising sergeant, hitting him hard in the jaw with the pommel of his sword. Her turn to duck, the Queen dropped to her knees to avoid a swing for her head. Williams span round with power and skill to smack the next bandit's sword out of his hands. Leaving him vulnerable to a hard uppercut from the Queen as she shot to her feet.

Taking her dagger out of her boot, the Avenging Angel fought off two more bandits at once, realising that there was no time for anything fancy. _Just put them down quickly before moving onto the next one, _thought a focused Tessa.

_That's it, _thought Lionel, as he fought off two very enthusiastic killers. _Let them think you haven't a chance. Let them back you into the next two thugs about to ambush you, thinking you can't see them…_

_Now!_

Williams, timing it just right, parried his two adversaries' swords with a concentrated upwards swing. The move surprised them and they struggled to regain their composure. Williams felt the two behind him about to lunge and he quickly turned to parry the swords away from him, using their own momentum against them to propel the enemy blades into the stomachs of their comrades.

Shock overwhelmed the killers over their blunder, leaving the sergeant free to slash them both across the stomachs, mortally wounding them. The two murderers sagged and slumped to the floor, nursing their agonising injuries for the seconds they had left.

Eight had been downed, and there were only two more to go. Lionel turned to see the Queen smiling in satisfaction over the last of Benito's gang which she had felled most expertly.

The vigilante looked over to her reluctant ally, who was secretly impressed and grateful for her help. The Queen looked as though she might approve of Williams' efforts, but any possibility of that happening…became lost to the reality of the current situation.

"Get down!" screamed the Avenging Angel, quickly flipping her dagger to wield it by the blade. With her superb reflexes, the masked Tessa then raised her hand and just as quickly threw the knife over the ducking sergeant and right into the heart of Benito. The bandits' notorious leader fell instantly to the floor, gurgled blood for a few seconds and then finally died.

Williams looked behind him to see that the gang's leader had somehow managed to get back up to one foot, using a chair and the courtyard table for help. His screams and pathetic attempts to stand had gone unnoticed due to all the fighting. Williams then noticed that Benito had managed to get a spare pistol off one of his fallen men to try and kill the Golden Sergeant.

Williams then looked back to the Queen, who was sighing painfully over what she'd done.

Lionel just narrowed his eyes at her and asked, "Do you honestly think _he _would've cried if he'd killed _you_?"

The Queen of Swords looked up to the sergeant, immediately overwhelmed with anger and confusion over his remark.

"What do you mean by that, Williams?" she demanded.

"I only believe in shedding tears for those who _deserve _them," explained the Sergeant as he went to Benito's body and knelt down to remove the dagger from his chest. He then wiped the blood off with the dead bandit's coat and then walked back to the dagger's owner.

"Like Esperanza Garcia," furthered Williams, exhaling his guilt and shame. The sergeant held the knife out for the vigilante to take back and said, "Compassion _is_ important. It's what separates us from filth like _him _and Montoya. But at the end of the day…is it really worth despairing over? Especially when you saved my life?"

The Queen stared at Williams long and hard before taking her dagger back and placing it back in her boot. She then looked at the sergeant again, now comparing him to Doctor Helm, and wondering if Williams was as good as he was painted.

"Not honourable at all, huh?" she asked over his statement to Benito earlier.

"Not in the least. Just try and do the right thing…and don't get killed doing it. That's my motto."

"How very blunt…'Golden Boy'."

"Maybe. But I've found it works much better than obsessing over 'honour'."

The Queen, momentarily taken aback, had no idea how to reply. Williams' comment made her think of Antonio and Doctor Helm, and her own beliefs in honour.

"All of Vega's servants and guards are still alive, aren't they?" asked Lionel.

"Unconscious, but safe."

"All's well that ends well, then."

"Not quite," remarked the masked Tessa. "The vultures…sorry, _the cavalry_'s here."

She nodded towards outside. Lionel looked in the direction she'd pointed, realising that Montoya would've been waiting from a safe distance, before moving in to clean up the mess left over and file the 'official' report of what happened in Don Vega's home. The sergeant then turned back to face the Queen of Swords…

Only to see that she'd now gone.

And left her calling card behind.

He picked it up off the ground, once again sighing over everything it meant. The sound of footsteps storming into the courtyard snapped Williams to attention. He turned to see a squad of soldiers weapons aimed at the fallen bandits still conscious and at him. Montoya and Grisham then walked into the courtyard to confront the sergeant.

"Will somebody let us out of this net?" screamed one of the struggling bandits, still kicking his fellows.

"Oh, shut up!" barked Williams, before turning to salute his superiors.

"Guns at the _bandits_, you idiots!" barked the captain, making the soldiers turn their weapons away from the sergeant.

"Well, sergeant…" observed the surprised colonel, hiding his disappointment over Lionel's survival very well. "You are somewhat of a hypocrite it would seem."

"I do not understand, Colonel Montoya."

"After your insistent requests for a weekend free from duty after all your hard work, I find you missing in the night, trespassing on a Don's home no less, in the midst of what is apparently bringing an end to the bandit Benito."

"Before I explain, sir…may I ask how you knew I was missing?"

"Your wife was _really _concerned, Williams," noted Montoya, feigning sympathy and not allowing himself to be caught out so easily. "She was desperate for you to come home safe. We were only too happy to oblige for such a remarkable woman."

Montoya's blatant lie and subtle denial of his scheme, meant that Lionel was free to respond with a lie of his own to ensure his safety. He did so by explaining, "I'd merely gone out for some fresh air when Benito's thugs snatched me from the street to bring me here. He wanted to know if Ramiro had said anything when I'd captured him."

"And?"

"Just petty sibling rivalry. Benito was planning to burn down the Don's home and frame me for it, taking all the riches and valuables. However, as you can clearly see, I was able to put a stop to his mischief, with the aid of some of the guards who'd also been captured."

"Yes…" agreed Montoya, considering Williams now as a worthy adversary, "I can _clearly_ see that you are most capable. No matter how dire the situation is."

The colonel looked to see that Benito was now conveniently dead, which was another positive boon for the governor. Not only could the bandit now say nothing incriminating, but his demise would win him more favour with the Dons.

"I will help gather what's left of Benito's men at once," nodded Williams.

"Very well, sergeant. Is there anything _else _I need to know?"

Lionel paused for a moment, thinking the best response he could give. He then raised the _Queen of Swords_ tarot card in front of the Colonel, whose face immediately fell into trademark, seething frustration. Grisham's eyebrows raised in 'uh-oh' fashion.

"I think she sends her regards," explained Williams, dropping the card into Montoya's hand as he left to join the other soldiers. "All right, men! Let's get these people tied up and back to town!"

The boiling colonel screwed up the card in his clenched hand. Grisham sighed, gulped and then smiled sheepishly at Montoya, "Oh, well…at least Don Vega will be happy we saved his home, got yet another big, bad bandit off the streets, and even though Williams is still breathing…he'll give us even more good press as time goes on. Business side of things, as you said."

Montoya just froze on the spot, unblinking. Without even looking at his captain, he slowly warned him, "Never, _ever_, try to cheer me up again, Grisham."

* * *

><p>The following night, Williams was at home, having enjoyed a great evening with his wife and daughter. The fire was roaring with a comforting aura, Maria had prepared a hearty meal of chicken drumsticks, mashed potatoes, peas and gravy for dinner, Theresa had been saying how much of a good day she'd had at school and was asking if her new best friend could come play over sometime. Lionel had written a few more pages in his journal and was now sitting down with his daughter in front of a smiling Maria.<p>

"So the Queen of Swords saved you, Daddy?"

"Yes, she did, sweetheart," nodded Williams. "Fought off thirty men left and right, cracking her mighty whip, swinging her beautiful swords, punching and kicking…"

Theresa had always enjoyed listening to her father's war stories, which Maria had originally tried to discourage. Theresa had picked up a love for adventure from her mother, who although still loved the thrill of it, had long realised the consequences and the dangers. Needless to say, Maria had tried to steer Theresa clear from influences that could be damaging, so as not to make the same mistake that she had made with herself.

But Theresa was clearly in charge of her own destiny and loved reading and hearing of adventure. Leaving Maria no choice but to relent. The times when Theresa's father finally came home after long absences, he made it up to her by telling her of his exploits. She'd always been hooked word-for-word. And after reading about the Queen back in Spain, Theresa's dream had come true.

Her daddy and her hero…side-by-side.

After Lionel had finished telling his 'bedtime story', Theresa asked excitedly, "Are you and the Queen best friends now, Daddy?"

The sergeant became very uncertain over that question. His mouth was open, but he was struggling to find the words. He looked to Maria, who raised an intrigued eyebrow. Looking back to Theresa, Williams was about to give a very feeble answer when the situation suddenly changed completely.

"_Are _we best friends now, sergeant?" asked the Queen, standing by the doorway that led into the kitchen, with her hands on her hips. The whole Williams family - completely shocked - turned to see the vigilante now smiling before them.

"Queen!" gasped Theresa with excitement. The vigilante smiled warmly and waved back at the six-year-old.

"Come on, Theresa," came in Maria, much less impressed as she walked over to put an arm round her child. "It's past your bedtime. And you've got school in the morning."

"But, Mommy, I want to talk to the Queen!"

Maria gently silenced Theresa's protests and led her to her bedroom. After they'd left, the Avenging Angel's eyes glanced towards the sergeant who got up out of his chair and into her face.

"Are you gonna arrest me for trespassing?" joked the Queen.

"Out the back," ordered Williams intently. "_Now_."

Once they'd stepped outside, Williams continued to glare at the Queen, who still stood with her hands on hips. Typical uneasy silence fell over them both. No soldiers or spies were around, meaning that the two allies were safe to talk.

"You have a great family, Williams," said the masked Tessa softly. "I would never mean them any harm."

"I _don't_ care," dismissed Lionel just as quietly. "I'm going to say this to you one-time-only, so listen carefully. _Our _relationship is nothing like the one you have with your love life."

"My 'love life'?" she replied, raising an eyebrow.

"Stop pretending. It's obvious to _everyone _that you and the surgeon are smitten."

The Queen's eyes narrowed angrily at the sergeant who furthered, "You saved my life and I thank you for that. And we may be allies now but we are _not _friends. You do _not _come here. _Ever_. Our relationship is strictly business. Are we crystal?"

"So it's okay for you to stick your nose in my private life…but not so when it's the other way round?" asked the vigilante simply. "Can you really have my trust, sergeant…whilst being a hypocrite?"

Williams paused and then sighed quietly. Nodding, he conceded, "Alright. I was being _very _hypocritical. And maybe, just _maybe_…I am an…honourable man. Actions do speak louder than words, don't they?"

"Always. Guess that's why you're not really as golden as you're _painted_."

Now it was Lionel's turn to narrow his eyes.

"Let me guess…you came here to tell me that you're not going anywhere?"

"Absolutely."

"And neither am I," vowed the sergeant, with equal resolve. "So it makes sense for us both to be at Montoya's throat instead of each other's. But just so you know…I'm still going to be fighting for a Santa Helena without corruption _and _the Queen of Swords."

"Me too," admitted the Queen, much to Williams' surprise. She turned to go, but the sergeant told her, "Wait."

She stopped to hear what he had to say. Lionel held up the tarot card she'd given him the day they'd met.

"You forgot this."

"Keep it. You never know when you'll need it again."

And she left without saying anything else. Williams looked back at the tarot card, once again lost in thought and aftermath. He sighed at the stars then made his way back inside to the comfort of his house.


	5. Lives in the Balance

_Disclaimer: Queen of Swords was created by Fireworks Entertainment, and is owned by ContentFilm. This story is NOT affiliated with the rights holders or the show's original creators. No infringement is intended and no profit is being made. This story is for entertainment purposes only._

_The author would like to thank Robert Vincent for all his valuable support and input._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5: Lives in the Balance<strong>

The public had gathered round the shop in the outskirts of the town in no time at all. The tailors known as Evita's had always had a reputation for being one of the quietest, most trouble-free parts in all Santa Helena. So the reports of a disturbance spelt 'gunfire' coming from a simple little tailor shop was plenty of reason for residents and soldiers to gather round.

Sergeant Pablo, for the lack of a better term, was a warmongering psychopath. When the crowd had refused to disperse, he and his men had fired shots into the air to make people back off. Not at all taking into account that it would set the schizophrenic Gregorio Evita off into self-destruct mode, taking himself, his own five-year-old son Tito and the other customers he was holding hostage. Pablo's plan was to simply storm the shop…and 'clean up'.

"Please!" begged a crying Susana Evita, grabbing onto Pablo's arm. "My son is in there!"

"Get this ugly tramp off of me!" yelled Pablo, shoving her away like she was carrying a disease. "Men, get ready to move in on my mark!"

"Sergeant!" protested Corporal Benjamin, briefly consoling Susana before he stepped in. "Do you really think Colonel Montoya…?"

"Shut up, Benjamin! Our mission is to take care of the trash and not ask questions! You're in _my _platoon now! Not the one being run by your precious Golden Sergeant…!"

"Sir!" interrupted one of Pablo's men, pointing to a cavalry of soldiers arriving on the scene. A cavalry being led by a very familiar face.

"Williams…" seethed the trigger-happy sergeant in annoyance.

"Go back to 1808 where you _belong_, Pablo!" belittled Lionel as he dismounted to approach him, with his men in tow. "Or whatever period of the Napoleonic Wars you felt happiest killing things within a hundred-mile radius!"

"This is _my _arrest, Golden Boy!" Pablo roared back in his face, "I don't need…!"

"It's _mine_ now," interrupted Williams indifferently, shoving Pablo down hard onto his backside, humiliating him in front of his own men and the people. "That finger of yours so much as twitches and I'll have you on charges. Men! Form a perimeter around the premises, and get those civilians back _more_!"

The hostile Pablo rose to his feet, determined to get to Williams, with five of his men struggling to restrain the mad dog. Benjamin silently smiled and turned to the formerly AWOL Marco, who had now quietly rejoined Pablo's ranks without the sergeant even noticing.

"Nice timing, Marco."

"Glad I found our _real _sergeant in time."

"Perimeter's secure, sir," informed one of Williams' men. "People are at a safe distance."

"Good. Everyone continue to stand guard until further orders."

Williams then slowly advanced towards the shop. Much to the ominous silence that now loomed over the street and all its inhabitants. Lionel could see the sight of unhinged Gregorio, with his pistol pressed against his own child's head, through the shop's window. The man's blood crazed eyes met the soulless, unreadable eyes belonging to the Golden Sergeant.

Moments of tension passed, neither one of them blinking. Gergorio's mouth had formed into a fierce scowl, like he might foam any minute. Williams' own face was just completely calm and utterly cool. He slowly drew his sword, holding it for the self-destructed man to see. He then thrust it into the ground by his side before slowly removing his pistol from his holster for Gregorio and everyone else to see.

"Damn it, Lionel," whispered an anxious Benjamin, as Williams dangled his pistol from his fingertips. "What are you doing?"

"You glory-hogging show-off," cursed Pablo, fuming jealously as Williams then let it drop to the ground. "I hope he blows your head off."

Williams ignored him and then slowly advanced towards the closed front door of the shop. Susana whimpered and covered her mouth, little Tito with his father's pistol still pressed hard against his head, shed more tears and panted in panic, his eyes wide and frozen as the soldier made his way to the front door and casually opened it.

The crowd gasped as he made his way inside. A terrible silence fell again as Williams closed the door behind him, leaving himself trapped, unarmed and alone with the (incredibly) once-sane Gregorio and his innocent hostages.

Several nerve-wracking seconds passed. No one could hear what was going on inside. No soldiers could see anything as Williams and Gregorio had moved to another part of the shop.

Susana continued to sob for her son's wellbeing. Corporal Marco was doing everything to comfort her. Sergeant Pablo didn't know why he was letting this heroic upstart walk over his clean-up operation. He had just decided to move in and override Williams' orders when…

A shot went off.

And a man screamed.

Susana shrieked and Marco and Benjamin did everything they could to hold her back. The rest of the crowd gasped in horror. Pablo smirked in sadistic satisfaction before yelling, "Move in! Take no prisoners!"

But before the soldiers could comply…the door of the shop swung open.

And a hatless Williams, his uniform stained with blood, emerged from the nightmare. He slowly trotted out, holding the crying Tito in his arms and doing his best to comfort him. Susana gasped with relief, the crowd erupted into cheers for their golden hero, Marco and Benjamin smiled with satisfaction.

Pablo just fumed in humiliation.

"Move in and help the hostages!" ordered Williams to the other soldiers. "Marco, get Doctor Helm out here right now! We have several wounded but no fatalities! And someone get word to Captain Grisham!"

Susana ran up to the sergeant, who gently handed her son over into her loving arms, assuring her, "It's okay. Your son is fine."

"God bless you, Sergeant Williams," sobbed Susana with gratitude. "God bless you."

"Benjamin, look after them."

"Right away, sir," nodded the corporal before leading them away. Williams paused to study the sight of Susana and Tito. A simple family, with a simple business…just completely shattered because one man had snapped over unfair tax payments and lack of trade.

_Yet another casualty of the governor's hardship_, sighed Lionel painfully.

He paid the approving townsfolk no attention as he walked over to where he'd dropped his sword and pistol. Replacing his weapons back in their proper holders, he then turned to see two soldiers bringing out the wounded Gregorio to escort him to jail.

And then finally walked over to Sergeant Pablo, whose eyes had remained fixated on Williams with cold, silent fury.

"Only an _idiot _thinks that the best way to solve _every _problem is to _shoot _it," belittled the Golden Sergeant angrily. "But having said that…I think shooting _you_ would save _everyone _a world of grief."

Williams directed his eyes away in disbelief, and left the enraged Pablo alone, who was now deeply brooding and very vengeful.

* * *

><p>Later, at Doctor Helm's office, the Englishman had finished treating the last victim of the hostage crisis, bandaging his head for the violent blow from Gregorio that had cracked his skull. The ever kind-hearted Tessa had been a big help, bringing patients over, assisting in cleaning wounds, bandaging patients, tidying the room for the next patient, sterilising medical tools etc. It would've been more of an ordeal had it not been for Senorita Alvarado.<p>

"Right, stay indoors, avoid manual labour and any major physical activity for at least a week," ordered the Doctor to his last patient after throwing away the last remnants of excess bandaging. "Then see me again. In the meantime, get plenty of rest and relaxation. Make sure you don't bang your head or get into another argument like you did today."

"Okay, Doctor," he nodded, smiling wearily.

"Hèctor," informed Tessa, returning to the room, "your father's outside with the carriage to take you home."

"Take care of yourself," reminded Robert as his patient stood up. "I'll see you in a week. Remember to keep those bandages clean and dry. _I'll _remove them to see how you're healing."

"Thank you, Doctor," nodded Hèctor gratefully, as he slowly made his way to the door. "And thank you, Tessa."

"Do you need any help walking or getting inside the carriage?" the noblewoman asked, gently coming to his side upon noting Hèctor's slow, unsteady walk.

"I'll be fine. My father can help me. Thank you both again."

Tessa gently guided Hèctor into the assisting arms of his father and then closed the door, leaving her and the doctor in private. Helm blew out a weary breath and ran his hand through his hair.

"Thank you for all your help today, Senorita Alvarado," said the doctor, facing her with gratitude, "I _do _appreciate it."

"It's the very least I can do, Doctor," dismissed Tessa. "You do so much for this town."

"I do what I _must_. You don't have to help me."

"I _wanted _to. And maybe…I have obligations of my own."

Robert felt a little bit perplexed over that admission Tessa had made. While there was no denying she was a good woman with a good heart, it seemed uncharacteristic of her to say such a thing. Since when did _she _have obligations?

Helm nodded at her contently and then turned to resume cleaning his office for the next emergency.

"I'll be fine tidying all this up," he insisted.

"Very well," Tessa nodded back. She had hoped that Williams might've popped over by now to check on the injured, maybe confer with him about Pablo among other things. But it didn't really matter on reflection. The wellbeing of the hostages did, and they would certainly be alright now.

"I hope to see…"

The sound of the door knocking interrupted Tessa's parting remark. Doctor Helm invited the visitor to come in and Sergeant Williams obliged.

"Hello, Sergeant," nodded Tessa as the soldier removed his hat.

"Greetings, Senorita," Lionel nodded back before turning to Robert. "How were the hostages?"

"They'll all live to see another day," confirmed Helm with no hostility in his voice.

"Thank you again for everything, Doctor," said Williams, genuinely meaning it. Helm didn't look at the sergeant as he carried on tidying, but did acknowledge his sincere comment with a cordial "You're welcome, Sergeant," before turning to wash his hands.

"Do you know how Susana is?" asked a concerned Tessa.

"Maria's with her now," explained Lionel, exhaling his sympathy. "She's brought Theresa along to keep her son company. Needless to say, all this is hardly something a good night's sleep will remedy."

"That poor woman," sighed the aristocrat, really feeling for the Evita family. "What on Earth does it take for a good man like her husband to just snap like that?"

_As if I don't already know,_ thought Tessa. Montoya's taxes and the Evitas' prior struggles ran through her mind.

Williams didn't answer. Tessa then remarked, "Sergeant Pablo must have been furious over you stealing his thunder."

"Frankly, I couldn't care less over petty rivalries with volatile dogs, Senorita."

"I am most delighted to hear that kind of professionalism from you, Sergeant."

Everyone turned to see Colonel Montoya, who had just entered Doctor Helm's office as he pleased.

"What a shame that it is tainted somewhat by personal distaste for one of your fellows."

"I apologise for my hypocrisy, sir," said Williams, standing to attention.

"The sergeant was just enquiring about the wellbeing of the victims, Colonel," explained Tessa politely.

"One thing I will say for him," admitted Doctor Helm, drying his hands, "is that he's very punctual when it comes to _knocking_."

"Mere trivialities, Doctor," dismissed Montoya, viewing Helm's criticism of his own manners as completely irrelevant. "Maybe they can be fawned over in _England_, perhaps. Now, Sergeant, I trust all is well with the victims."

"Doctor Helm says that they will heal. In time."

"Good. And with the maniac Gregorio Evita behind bars pending firing squad…we can all sleep soundly tonight."

Silence fell over the room. Everyone was quelling their horror and disgust for Montoya's trademark ruthlessness.

"Colonel, the man was struggling like no other," pointed out Tessa. "Surely _some _leniency could be granted."

"Perhaps a _fair hearing _instead of an _open-shut-case_," suggested Lionel, agreeing with the Senorita.

"Due to the highly serious nature of his crime, that is completely out-of-the-question," replied the governor adamantly, refusing to publicly acknowledge his pressurising of Evita's. All over his disappointment with the repairs Gregorio had once done to his suit.

"Even medical treatment to the man's _abdomen_?" asked the doctor icily.

"_Especially _medical treatment. Now, the matter is as good as closed. Sergeant Williams, accompany me back to my office at once."

"Yes, sir. Thank you again, Doctor. Senorita, I will see you soon."

"Looking forward to dinner Saturday evening, Sergeant. Give my love to Maria and Theresa. Goodbye, Doctor."

"Goodbye, Senorita," Helm nodded again, thankful that at least two of the people were now out of his hair. _Not _so thankful for the remaining one's departure.

And he wasn't entirely sure why.

* * *

><p>Later that evening, Williams was sat under the porch of the back of his house, drinking a hefty bottle of beer, and thankful that being politically connected entitled him to certain luxuries. Like being allowed to enjoy the privacy of his own home, being with his family and other really nice off-duty privileges. More than most sergeants were known to receive.<p>

It had been a long day. Needless to say, the incident at Evita's had been hard. But dealing with the aftermath had been arduous. Montoya _had _congratulated him on yet another job well done - and without casualties at that - but he had also reprimanded him for muscling in on another sergeant's assignment, and informed him that both Marco and Benjamin would be penalised for abandoning their posts and disobeying their _official _sergeant. Williams' protests had been noted…and ultimately ignored.

"Forgive me, Colonel," Williams had asked, "but why do you allow rabid creatures like Pablo into your ranks? Such hostile elements are renowned for backfiring."

"Even a bloodthirsty wolf has its uses in the battlefield, sergeant," Montoya had justified. "So long as you stand well back before you unleash it, you have nothing to worry about."

"But Napoleon is a thing of the past, sir."

"All humans are warmongers at heart, Williams. Why do you think Napoleon's legacy still lives on?"

Then there'd been a confrontation with Don Cascajo de la Calderón, a rich, powerful man who owned several businesses in Santa Helena. A few of them were in the same street Evita's was situated. The Don had angrily voiced his dissatisfaction with the Golden Sergeant, saying that because of today, customers were now afraid to leave their homes, costing him money. Williams had personally despised de la Calderón since day one, and told him flat out that he couldn't care less about his petty businesses. The sergeant's primary concern was the safety of the community. And that if the Don had any suggestions on how to achieve this, share them here and now, or go home and act like a circus monkey in private. Williams had left the insulted ingrate screaming abuse and threats.

A punch-up with Sergeant Pablo before he went off-duty hadn't made Lionel feel any better, either. It was a given that the maniac would confront him to try and obtain some form of retribution. Nevertheless, it _had _ended quickly with Williams coming out on top, but the Golden Boy now had a new annoyance to contend with. The involvement of Captain Grisham and his mocking comment of "Yet another priceless contribution from the Golden Reprobate! Keep 'em comin', Williams!" had been _most welcome indeed_.

Finally he'd come home to a very heated argument with Maria, which was the last thing he'd wanted. Ever the gossiper, Vera had been quick to inform her of his latest heroic deed with complete details. Mrs. Williams had let her husband know just how upset and angry she was over his recklessness. Lionel's comeback was that it was no different than the days of the war and he asked why Maria was getting so bothered about it now.

"Maybe it's because you're getting too complacent with your job!" accused Maria venomously. "So happy with spitting in Montoya's face and riding with certain Queens that you've forgotten everything you _were _and what you're supposed to be!"

"You mean building a bright tomorrow for women and children only? Sorry I'm letting you down, Maria. Didn't realise you were that urgent. Or maybe you're just jealous that I'm in the thick of the action and no one else will let you have any fun?"

Lionel felt that he'd deserved the slap that followed. For intensifying their argument even more. Both had raised their voices over Theresa, the alliance with the Queen of Swords, and both spouses forgetting what they were supposed to be doing to achieve survival. Things had ended with Maria going to bed by herself, Lionel cooking his own dinner and now in the back all alone with his thoughts and his booze.

But not for long.

"I really don't know what's worse, old man."

Williams sighed and cast his eyes to the Queen now standing adjacent to him, hands on hips.

"The beer itself or the legacy it leaves on your breath," she smiled.

"Do I insult the vintages you drink whenever you take that mask off, kid?" he retorted bitterly.

The masked Tessa looked up, smiling in contemplation and cocking her head from side-to-side, before answering, "I don't believe in drowning _my _troubles in alcohol. It's known for backfiring."

"You focus on your coping skills, and I'll focus on mine. Now, what do you want?"

"I was just joking around with you, Williams."

"Not in the mood. I'm not going to ask again."

The Queen rested against the porch wall and explained, "Just wanted to say thanks for your information about the Monterey shipment for the fundraiser. Those bandits would have made off with it. And Montoya would have taken it from them without leaving a trace if I hadn't stopped them."

Williams took another swig from his beer and then nodded, "You're welcome, kid."

The Avenging Angel paused for a moment before saying, "I heard about the incident at Evita's this morning."

"Yeah," was all Williams could give.

"I'm sure the fiesta will be able to help. Maybe put their lives back together."

"I hope so. Surprised you're not going to try and break Gregorio out of jail."

"I don't think that would do anyone any good," remarked the vigilante, looking down on the ground. "His family hates and fears him. _He's_ already given up."

"He had his last rites with Padre Quintera earlier," explained the sergeant. "Prayed for forgiveness and then cried himself to sleep. A family shattered and a good man ruined. And over what? Taxes and Montoya's dissatisfaction over a repair to his _suit_? Jesus. "

The sergeant then stood up, downed some more beer and turned to go back inside. Puzzled, the Queen asked, "Nothing more to say?"

"Is there _meant _to be, vigilante?" he asked very coldly.

The Queen of Swords narrowed her eyes, studying the sergeant's tone thoughtfully before replying, "There _always _is, sergeant."

"Like _what_?"

"That you know and accept what I am. Yet you still can't stand the sight of me."

"_You _feel the same way about _me_, 'ally'," pointed out Williams, his face letting the Queen know just how tired he was. Tessa ignored it and persisted, "The real problem you have isn't bandits or vigilantes. It's _masks_."

Williams seethed, took his hand off the door handle and then glared at the vigilante, whose solemn face continued, "That's why you followed Montoya's orders to bring me in at the Garcia farm without question. Because you assumed the worst about me because of the mask I wear."

"Is that any different than you originally labelling _me _corrupt whilst trying to defend that family?" asked Lionel cynically. "After _your _experiences with _soldiers_?"

"Williams…that's my _point_."

The sergeant stared unblinking at the Queen, sighing painfully as bullets, screams and masks once more flashed in his tormented mind.

"Why the prejudice?" she asked simply. After Williams refused to answer, the masked Tessa looked down at her feet and then back up to the sergeant, encouraging, "In my experience, the truth comes out sooner or later. Even to someone you don't fully understand or appreciate yet."

"Alright, then," shrugged Williams darkly, moving away from the door to sit back down on the porch steps. He finished the last of his beer and began to explain to the masked Tessa.

"I _did _actually love masks once upon a time. Back in the days when I could afford to love trips to the circus or the theatre or fancy dress parties. All those wonderful entertainers and fun-seekers. The jugglers, the knife-throwers, the clowns, the pantomimes…all those wonderful colours and decorative patterns. The auras of mystique and intrigue they emitted.

"Then I turned seven. That was when my childhood ended."

The Queen noted Williams' remembrance change from fond smiling to bitter, painful seething. She remained respectfully silent, allowing Williams to continue his story.

"I was still in America. My parents had just picked me up from school. Broad daylight, the sun shining down. Excited smiles all looking forward to going to Spain to visit relatives.

"Then I saw those wonderful masks. Colourful, decorative, stylish masks all riding behind us at top speed. My parents were concerned, then grew fearful. I was stupid. I couldn't understand.

"I thought it was a travelling circus. I'd never heard the term 'Stand and deliver!' before. I was confused. Then they made us stop. And when I saw the guns…_that's_ when I became scared.

"My father handed them the dollars. It wasn't enough. One of them touched my mother, like they wanted to have her. It angered my dad enough to fight back. And their leader…a man wearing the Face of Tragedy, pulled the trigger and blew his head off. Right in front of me."

Lionel's lip quivered in despair, and he tried to fight back the tears. The Queen silently exhaled her shock and horror.

"My mother cried," Williams wept, agonising over the trauma, "then she got shot by that same man. Right in the chest. The recoil knocking her off the wagon onto the ground, making her land right on her head. It became my turn to cry. I fell from the wagon, trying to get off. I hugged my mother, begging her to wake up. Not wanting to accept the fact that she was dead already. I then looked to my murdered father, and screamed the same of him.

"And all the bandits…all the masks…were just laughing at me. Never stopping laughing at me. I blubbered and dared to look their leader in the face. It had changed to the Face of Comedy. And it laughed as it took a dollar coin out of the bag my father had surrendered. It threw it down at my knees, and said, 'Nickel for your troubles, kid!'.

"Then the masks ran for the hills, leaving me screaming for help. And there was no one. No one to answer my prayers. Which were for it all to be a bad dream, and my parents to be there by my bedside. I was on my own, poor, helpless little orphan in that godforsaken desert…for _hours_, before help arrived. All because of _masks_."

The Queen put every ounce of sympathy she could offer in her face. Williams' tear-streaked eyes narrowed evilly as he furthered in a harsh, bitter voice, "And I _never_ found that faceless son-of-a-bitch, let alone who he was. After all these decades. For all I know, he's still out there. Still hiding behind a mask, still pillaging, still murdering…escaping justice every time, and mocking the law."

The masked Tessa's mind flashed back to the dream where her father had visited her. Many fingers on the trigger. The deserter Raul present when it happened. Montoya and Grisham's desire to take over the Alvarado land, Don Horatio's fortune, the incident with her uncle and Don Ricardo, the soldiers involved in all those affairs.

Tessa had long suspected that Montoya and Grisham had been involved in the murder of her father, Don Raphael Alvarado, and the conspiracy to take his land. After fighting them for so long, she had every reason to believe it to be true. But no proof existed to confirm her beliefs. And despite all attempts…she still had yet to unmask _the_ killer personally responsible. After all this time.

And it still caused her such pain.

"Do you know what that's like?" asked Williams, standing up to look the vigilante in the face. "To have the people you love _ripped_ from your heart, leaving you forever scarred? And bleeding?"

The Queen of Swords placed her hand on Williams' shoulder and vehemently assured the sergeant, "_Yes_. I _do_. And in my case…the bastards responsible were _soldiers_."

Williams silently nodded his complete understanding of the Queen. She removed her hand from his shoulder and then said, "If there's one thing I've accepted, Williams, out of all the masks, thieves, bandits, soldiers and killers…there's one crucial thing that separates everything. The line between _good _and _evil_."

Williams looked down at the ground, lost in deep thought. When he looked back up to face the Queen, she was gone. He closed his eyes, sighing in despair and then returned inside. Maria moved away from the bedroom window as soon as her husband did so. She sighed in pain and despair before going back to bed.

* * *

><p>"You know how much I understand and sympathize your humiliations, don't you, Sergeant?" smiled Montoya, feigning pity as he walked round the fuming Pablo in his office. "It makes you mad. Lusting for a man's blood."<p>

"Just say the word, sir, and I'll bleed him like a sponge and mop up what's left of his family," sneered the animalistic sergeant, his sinister face basking the dim candlelight.

"Such extremities are unnecessary, Pablo," laughed the Colonel, like he was fond of a child's suggestion. "Though I do understand the sentiment. Captain Grisham has made several similar suggestions, albeit less _colourful _than yours. However, like you, Pablo…Williams is much more valuable to me _alive_. And the same can be said for his family. That way, I am in no danger of _reprisals _from others."

"Huh. Never thought the great Montoya would _cower _from the risks of military warfare."

With such superb reflexes, the governor span round, grabbed Pablo by his collar, drew a knife and pressed it up against the sergeant's throat. Pablo's eyes widened with surprise as his commanding officer's eyes narrowed with fierce venom.

"Caution is _not _the mark of a coward, Pablo," warned Montoya slowly. "It is the mark of a great _strategist_. If you ever live long enough, you may come to appreciate the fact that it takes a soldier to guide and unleash the full destructive force of a _cannon_. And use it effectively to fight and maim _another _day."

Pablo smirked in satisfaction, "Of _course_, Colonel. What would I ever be without _your_ inspired leadership?"

"A neutered carnivore rotting in an impound. _Never _forget that."

Montoya released Pablo, who smiled and nursed his throat to get the circulation back. Montoya withdrew his knife and continued, "You should be proud of your efforts, my sergeant. Because of you, I now know the best way to control Williams and ensure it indefinitely."

Pablo's confused face gave Montoya some satisfaction. Another chance to prove his superiority.

"The Golden Sergeant's greatest strength is also his greatest weakness. That was visible with the Garcias. And it was visible with the Evitas. His compassion for _families_. More specifically…_his _family. Exploit that, you exploit him."

Montoya's ruthless smile then dropped, and a fierce look of intimidation rose thereafter. He directed it at the savage Pablo to make sure he understood.

"Because of Williams and the Queen of Swords, the Garcia farmland is now out of my grasp. With the upcoming fiesta and public opinion against me, that plan is no longer viable. Neither is the notion of making Williams into a martyr. The Golden Sergeant problem has already cost me too much. I could do without yet another failure from my overrated monkeys.

"So listen _well_."

* * *

><p>Neither Maria or Lionel had slept well that night. They'd woken up the next morning not speaking to each other. Not because they were still angry, but because they were both ashamed. They hadn't given Theresa any reason to be concerned. As far as their daughter was concerned, she was still innocent, sweet and enjoying life in Santa Helena, enjoying school and playing with her new friends.<p>

In the adult world, though, Lionel had had his breakfast and reported for duty without even kissing his wife goodbye. Maria had been left alone to sigh her anxiety after taking Theresa to school. She'd tried to cheer herself up, remembering that the fiesta was on Friday, and the Williams family would be going to the Alvarado hacienda for a dinner party with Tessa and Marta. Shopping with Marta normally made Maria feel better about problems.

But it didn't this particular afternoon.

"I think those tomatoes are in danger of shrivelling if you hold them in the sun any longer," pointed out Marta.

Maria came to her senses and put them in the basket, before handing the money over to the grocer.

"Sorry," was all Mrs Williams gave. "What else did we need for Saturday? Cajun spices and garlic, wasn't it? Cocoa powder, strawberries…butter, sugar…argh, I've forgotten to get that _wine_ again! I'll be back in a…"

The Gypsy gently grabbed Maria's hand to make her stop. The American woman looked back at her friend, who smiled, "You're very distressed for someone who seemingly has little reason to be so."

Maria sighed and asked, "Do you ever have massive rows with Tessa? And feel really bad about it afterwards?"

"Everyone argues and shouts, Maria. It is human nature, even among loved ones."

"You're right," agreed Mrs Williams as they left the market to head for the cantina, deciding it was lunch time. "These tomatoes _are _in danger of shrivelling."

Marta smiled. Soon enough, their shopping was by their feet and they were both now sat down at the table, with soup, bread and a bottle of red wine.

"Please pardon me for being so bold, Senora," began the Gypsy, after swallowing the spoonful of warm, creamy soup. "But I gather it must be husband trouble."

"That is being _very _bold, Marta," grinned Maria modestly, dunking a piece of bread in her soup. "I'm not Spanish and I'm no aristocrat."

Marta smiled again as Maria ate the soup-soaked bread and wiped her mouth with the napkin. "You present yourself with class, Maria. And you are married to a hero from Spain. That makes you so much more than what is skin deep."

Mrs Williams smiled a little over that but was soon overcome again by anxiety.

"Suppose I'm lucky, after all. More than I should be."

"Or maybe you're fearing more than what you actually should be."

Maria looked up to Marta, understanding what her friend meant, and explained, "It's complicated, Marta."

"Or maybe less so," pointed out Tessa's servant as she gently intercepted Maria's hand from reaching the wine bottle. The American raised a curious eyebrow, but she trusted Marta and allowed her to continue caressing her palm, reading the patterns.

"Marta…no offence," smiled the soldier's wife, "but I wised up to fortune-tellers a long time ago. Someone tried to con me when I was _six_, I caught on, punched him in the nuts, got my coin back…never believed in or participated in that stuff since."

"I get that most of the time," downplayed Marta. "So no offence taken. Now…you have three brothers…"

"Lucky guess," conceded Maria, still smiling. Marta continued reading her palm, smiling as she further revealed, "Two of them twins."

Maria's smile dipped slightly. "_Luckier_ guess."

Marta's own smile vanished as she focused hard on the images she was now seeing.

"Your mother…relinquished her life to bring you into being."

Maria was now no longer smiling. She was shocked, absolutely stunned that Tessa's servant could be that accurate. How could Marta possibly know that Maria's mother had died giving birth to her?

The Gypsy was now absolutely mesmerised by the flashes of life she was seeing.

"You grew up in a man's world. A rich man's world. It gave you hunger for adventure…"

Maria's mind flashed back to her growing up in America. Times of wild, daring horse riding, rock-climbing, rodeoing, and her brothers teaching her how to use her fists.

"…and a sense of rebellion."

The strictness and discipline of Maria's father, the endless arguments, the contentment of being a rich lady, yet nowhere near satisfying as a life of thrills…all the memories made Maria shed a tear.

"Your life…" Marta then read, slowly realising the truth, "your life is not your first. You died and reincarnated. You fell from grace. And everything you were…including your father…"

Marta saw a past Maria screaming in despair, Lionel doing everything to comfort her as her home, her father, her whole world…

"Was lost to fire," gasped Tessa's servant, looking up at her friend in shock.

"Stop it," demanded Maria, feeling very afraid. Marta continued reading, and saw a hardened and more mature Mrs Williams, fighting…and _killing _to protect her young from evil.

"And you became a warrior when no other was around."

"Enough!" cried Mrs Williams, yanking her hand out of the gypsy's tender hold. The reaction inadvertently making her knock the flower vase off the table onto the floor, where it smashed. Marta looked into her friend's eyes, now visibly shaken from having relived all those memories. Other customers and staff looked over to their table to see what all the trouble was about.

"Just saying that there's nothing nice whatsoever about spiders!" explained Maria to everyone, her fear washed away by the mask of silliness she'd put on. "Sorry for the zero warning! If I shriek again, I'll let you all know!"

The people stared at her for a bit before resuming their drinking, eating and talking. The owner came over, making his feelings over the smashed vase visibly clear. Mrs Williams apologised profusely and paid enough to satisfy the owner. Once he'd cleared up the mess and left them, Maria turned back, exhaling fearfully as Marta looked at her through apologetic eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Maria. I didn't mean…"

"If you want to help me or understand me, words are more preferable," explained Mrs Williams, helping herself to another drink.

"I'm sorry," Marta apologised again. "I didn't mean to torment you, only…"

"How did you _know_ those things? I've never told _anyone_. _Only_ Lionel knows."

"Not all fortune-tellers are con artists, Maria."

"Yeah, I know that _now_!" admitted the soldier's wife, putting her spoon back in her soup bowl to finish off the remainder. She rested her hand on her head for a moment, stirring the last of her lunch before sighing, "I'm sorry I panicked. I just want to know what you're trying to tell me."

"Everyone has reason to be afraid, Maria," assured Marta soothingly, after finishing her meal. "But to be afraid of the good is just foolish."

"Let me guess. The Queen of Swords."

"You know of the truth. You've heard the stories. From me, Tessa and your husband. Yet you fear a snake that does not exist. Why? Is it because she chooses to hide behind a mask? We all wear masks."

"It's nothing to do with masks, Marta," sighed Maria, shaking her head. "It's not them I fear. Or guns or swords. Just the wrong people behind them." She then looked up to her friend after another painful reflection and asked, "If you've ever been betrayed by someone you _thought_ you knew…and it led to the unravelling of your life, could you ever take another chance like that? To be honest, I'm not really up for that all over again. It took me a long time to build a…_new _life."

"The actions of one are not the same as another," soothed the Gypsy again.

"How do you _know _that? Are you _really _that psychic?"

"Experience," Marta joked. She then went serious again and encouraged, "Fear and anger may help you survive, but faith and trust do a much better job. Maria…fallouts are always inevitable. And I myself have questioned my mistress plenty of times if she's doing the right thing. Tessa has made mistakes but she has also learnt from them to become stronger and more positive. Has your husband followed the same path?"

Maria thought about this for a moment before nodding, "Yes. He has."

"Then if you cannot at least trust the Queen…trust _his _judgement. And that will inevitably lead to reconciliation, acceptance all round, and a happy ending."

Maria knew that this afternoon would stay with her forever. She couldn't ignore or even doubt the word of Marta now.

Tessa's servant asked the waiter for the bill and after lunch had been paid for, Marta smiled at Maria as they picked up their shopping. "Now…I believe we were missing the wine for Saturday?"

* * *

><p>Lionel was having difficulty remembering the last time he slept soundly. If it wasn't nightmares about his parents, his suffering and eventual betrayal of the French, or him screaming for forgiveness from Esperanza Garcia before she was executed all over again…<p>

It was either his new bogeymen Montoya and Grisham, laughing and mocking him. Or Doctor Helm, Maria and the Queen all taking turns to curse him for his arrogance and his ruthlessness, saying he was no better than those he was fighting.

But at least he hadn't had his _worst _nightmare since coming to Santa Helena.

_Small consolation_, he thought bitterly.

He'd been put on night watch again, had come in at four in the morning, and had climbed into bed for tossing and turning instead of relaxation. Maria had put up with it for years and was too tired to comfort or argue with him again. So when he woke up screaming, Maria had just turned a deaf ear. Lionel ducked his head in loneliness and regret. For everything.

He looked to the clock and groaned in drained frustration. He was just about to lower his head back onto the pillow when an urgent knock threatened to batter the door in.

"_Sergeant Williams!"_ came the voice. _"You're needed at once!"_

Williams angrily grunted and climbed out of bed to put some pants on and answer the door. The knocking grew louder and louder, as though the soldier wanted to break the door in.

"Alright! I'm coming!" Williams yelled. "Keep it down! My family's asleep!"

The sergeant opened the door to see Clencho, a soldier outside of Williams' unit, salute him.

"Sergeant Williams, Colonel Montoya needs you at Evitas' at once. We've had reports of a break-in."

_Who the hell would target that place at this time? _thought Williams as he stared incredulously at the soldier. _Montoya shut the place down after Gregorio was arrested and hanged. There's nothing left there now._

"Clencho, I've only had _two hours _sleep," reminded the Golden Sergeant. "I've been on night watch, I'm not supposed to be back on duty until this _afternoon_. Sergeants Hernandez and Ruy are _fresh_. And they patrol that area regularly. Surely _they _can…"

"It's an _emergency_, sergeant. The colonel needs someone he can _trust_. Those are his _orders_."

"Fine. Tell the colonel I'll be there in five minutes. Have my horse ready."

"Yes, sir."

Maria hadn't been able to shut out the talking, so naturally had woken up to discover what was going on. She reluctantly got out her husband's uniform and prepared him a mug of coffee. Williams was soon ready, ignoring his body's moaning for rest and relying on the caffeine to jumpstart his brain. Clencho was there with the sergeant's horse, and he was soon mounted and riding to investigate the crime.

On the rooftops opposite Williams' house, the Queen had closed her spyglass and grimaced in dismay as the Golden Sergeant rode off.

_Williams, turn around! Please! I can't reveal myself to warn you!_

She looked back to see Clencho scratch his cheek as he walked off back to the fort. The masked Tessa shook her head in disbelief. If the soldier was going to signal, why not just do it instead of trying to be clever by pointing the direction with his moronic scratching?

As the soldier turned to walk down the dark alley, he felt the weight of the Queen dropping right on top of him. He exclaimed and ultimately fell into unconsciousness. The Queen dusted herself off, waited for the right moment and darted for the house, hoping Williams had heard enough of the distraction to turn around.

He had. He was only about to enter the town square when he'd heard Clencho's cry. Curious, Williams stopped his horse and turned around. There was no sign of anyone but himself. Yet there was a trail of dust across the street, that was just dispersing. Someone had _clearly _run over…to his _house_.

_I'm tired, unfocused, _remembered Williams. _Evitas is no longer an emergency. Montoya DOESN'T trust me. Orders…to get me out of the house. Maria…Theresa…_

The rush of adrenaline made him forget all about tiredness. He yanked the reins hard and turned his horse round to dart for his home. Within seconds, the sergeant was at the back of the house. He quickly jumped off the saddle, drawing both his sword and pistol and slowly advancing towards the door, on the alert for trouble's first sign. Williams discovered that the door was naturally locked, so he kicked it in and entered the shattered safety of his home.

There'd been a struggle. Pans, cutlery and smashed crockery were all over the kitchen floor. Williams shook his head in denial and slowly ventured deeper. The front room was much less worse for wear, but there'd still been a fight going on. The whole house was as quiet as a tomb, and there was no sign of Williams' family or anyone.

"Maria! Theresa!" shouted Lionel, desperately.

"DADDY!"

The sergeant span on the spot…and felt his blood turn to ice.

A bandit, hatted, wearing a big coat and masked with a balaclava round his mouth…had his arm wrapped round Theresa's neck and the tip of his blade hovering precariously over her right eye.

"Hello, sergeant," sniggered the bandit sinisterly. "Wasn't expecting to find you home so soon."

_Pablo_…Williams thought, instantly recognising the man's voice. Those psychopathic eyes.

"Lionel…" gasped Maria, held by a burly masked bandit with a pistol pressed hard against her head. Williams turned to redirect his aim at the man who had Maria as his hostage. There was another bandit next to them who had his gun poised to take Lionel's head off if he tried anything. Three more bandits, armed with rifles entered the room, pointing them at the Golden Sergeant

_These men are all soldiers_, realised Williams with growing horror. _Montoya's behind this._ _He's got to be_.

"Drop your weapons, Williams," ordered Pablo, drawing his knife even closer to the scared Theresa's eye. "Wait until we've gone, then head over to Evitas' and wait…"

The whip cracked round Pablo's arm, surprising him enough for the Queen to yank his arm away from Theresa's head. The knife flew out of his grasp, and the Queen ran in to punch the corrupt sergeant in the face and release Theresa. As Pablo fell to the floor, the other murderers turned to fire at the vigilante, who quickly grabbed Theresa and dived for behind the sofa, to use it for cover.

"GET DOWN!" yelled Lionel as he fired his weapon at the bandit who was holding Maria at gunpoint. Williams knew he couldn't afford to go for a wound, so he shot to kill. Mrs Williams ducked as her captor fell dead to the floor, then instinctively looked up to see that the other killer was about to shoot her husband. She swept the man's legs, to make him land hard on his head. The gunshot travelled harmlessly into the ceiling. Maria made sure he was knocked out by punching him hard in the face.

_Good girl, Maria, _thought Lionel as he took his sword to slash another disguised soldier in the back. _Just like I taught you._

"Stay down with your hands on your head, okay?" The Queen told Theresa. The frightened little girl nodded quickly and did what she was told. The vigilante got her sword up just in time to block the man that was trying to get to them. She fought him off quickly and then turned to see Lionel occupied with the remaining bandit. The vigilante turned to help him but was caught unawares by the recovered Pablo. He swung his arm out wildly, tripping the masked Tessa's legs. She fell flat on her face, the impact disorientating her.

Williams disarmed the other 'bandit', then quickly put him down for the count before turning to see that his ally was in trouble. Concern for the kid arose, then confusion. One mask trying to save his family, another meaning them harm. The bizarre feeling overwhelmed the sergeant…and distracted him.

"Lionel, look out!" screamed Maria too late. Pablo fired his pistol, the bullet catching his nemesis right in the shoulder. Williams cried out his pain and fell to the floor, clutching his bloody shoulder. The crying Maria ran over to tend to her husband, the Queen was still woozy from Pablo tripping her up. The corrupt sergeant made a grab for Theresa, picking the screaming child off the floor and running out the door with her.

"THERESA!" screamed Maria hysterically.

"No…" grunted Williams in agony, trying to get up. Pablo regrouped with the other 'bandit' outside, climbed onto his horse with Theresa crying for her parents, and hightailed it out of the street. The enraged Pablo glanced over his shoulder. Montoya's plan had gone to pieces.

"Go to the barracks, Maria!" yelled Lionel, making himself stand up to his feet and pursue. "Get help! Marco! Benjamin! ANYONE that came from Spain with us! Anyone that _isn't _corrupt!"

The sergeant's shoulder was on fire. He struggled to bury the searing agony as he picked up his sword and sprinted through the door. Screaming as he climbed onto his steed, the Golden Sergeant threw caution to the wind as he commanded his horse to right harder and faster like never before.

"THERESA!"

Back in the house, the masked Tessa shook her head, willing herself to get it together quick. The blurring in her vision had nearly subsided when she looked up to see herself staring up the barrel of another pistol.

One that was being held by a scared woman.

"Don't move," said Maria, through clenched teeth. "Don't you _dare_ move. I'm warning you!"

"Mrs Williams, _please_, you have to trust me!" implored the vigilante, picking up her sword and assuring her friend with truthful eyes, "I _won't_ let your daughter die."

Marta's advice and palm-reading once again rang through Maria's tortured mind. Tears trailed from her eyes, and the pistol shook uncontrollably in her grasp. The Queen sheathed her sword and sprinted to Chico waiting outside. Maria lowered the gun and looked back to survey the mess of her home, the bodies of the men that had tried to kidnap her, and the sight of the Queen riding fast to save Theresa. Maria snapped out of her hysteria and quickly ran off to get help.

Far ahead, Lionel had pursued Pablo and his accomplice right out of town. They had rode half-a-mile due east south from Santa Helena and were now approaching the bridge that crossed over Provincial Canyon, which would take them far out into the country. The sun was starting to come up, meaning it would be easy for help to pick up their trail. But Lionel knew he had to do something _now_. He was tired, injured and in no real condition for this.

Williams shook off the cobwebs that clouded his head and kicked his saddle, snapping the reigns and screamed at his horse to go faster. Pablo's subordinate looked behind him and stopped to draw his pistol. He cocked the weapon and was just about to fire when the enraged Pablo, growing more and more frustrated over the situation, was forced to stop and bark, "Montoya will have our heads if Williams dies, you idiot!"

Thankful for the soldier's stupidity, the relentless Lionel (timing it just right) sped by and swung hard with his fist, connecting with the thug's jaw and knocking him hard off his horse. The surprised Pablo could only watch as Williams then dived off his steed and onto his enemy, tackling both him and his daughter. Williams made sure he landed on top of Pablo as they all fell, and twisted his body to cushion his daughter as much as possible. Theresa cried and screamed but was physically unharmed. Pablo took the full brunt of it, grimacing over the hard impact. The exhausted, already-injured Williams hadn't the energy to pull off such a reckless move so skilfully and ended up damaging his shoulder even more.

"Daddy!" cried the frightened Theresa again as she got up to her feet and ran over to her father. Lionel grimaced, fearing it wasn't over yet. He made it to both feet but his balance was shaky and he sagged to one knee momentarily. The sergeant willed himself on again to regain his footing and looked to his side to see his daughter.

"RUN, SWEETHEART!"

After he'd said that, Williams screamed in agony as Pablo's knife caught him violently across his side. Theresa wailed as her father fell to the ground clutching his vicious wound. Pablo's fellow soldier grabbed Theresa and ran for the bridge, panicked and not thinking straight.

Pablo ripped the bandanna away from his mouth and turned his enemy over. Mounting on top of Williams, Pablo (now completely over the edge) raised his knife high into the air and brought it down. The Golden Sergeant, drained and agonised, barely managed to get his hands up to grab Pablo's wrists and stop the blade being embedded in his face.

"To hell with Montoya's orders," spat the corrupt sergeant with savage glee. "It's much more fun making you bleed like a stuck pig. What's left of you can then watch your little witch flail like a falling chicken before she goes splat in that canyon! As you burn in hell with your wife!"

"You BASTARD!" screamed Lionel, struggling to overpower the fresher, healthier Pablo, who just cackled mockingly at him. Pablo's accomplice was very near to the bridge, Theresa shrieking and still reaching out to the sight of her daddy. Lionel dared to cast his direction at the sight of his child being taken away from him.

The thug was just about to step foot onto the bridge…

When a horse's cry filled the rising dawn.

It was like everything was now in slow-motion. Pablo, Williams, little Theresa and her big captor could only stop and stare in freezing, numbing shock as the dashing Chico came out of nowhere onto the scene.

The Queen of Swords dived off him, onto Pablo's accomplice, tackling him and grabbing Theresa.

Lionel's eyes widened as the multiple mishmash of bodies crashed on the ground in a cloud of dust and tumbled uncontrollably together.

"No…"

Right over the edge of the precipice. Into the canyon below.

"NOOOOOOO!" screamed Williams. His worst nightmare had finally come true. The horror became everything, all else became nothing. Completely ignoring the pain in his side and shoulder, Williams used his hands - his remaining strength - to twist Pablo's wrists and make him relinquish his knife. Pablo cried out his pain and then felt Williams' hands suddenly reach for his neck. The shocked Pablo felt the air being cut off from his lungs and then nothing else except the pain of Williams twisting his head and snapping his neck.

Lionel threw the body away from him and then sprinted over to the edge of the cliff, remembering the screams of the falling 'bandit' and his child.

"THERESA!"

Williams couldn't fight the tears. He couldn't hide from the failure, the guilt that would haunt him forever. The laughs from Montoya and Grisham over their victory, the well-deserved hatred from Maria and Doctor Helm…

Williams knelt down on the edge of the cliff, daring to look at the devastating aftermath.

And shock overwhelmed him again.

The Queen of Swords, tightly cradling the terrified Theresa, was hanging by a rope attached to her waist. Attached to the rope's end, was a grappling hook, one that she'd thrown out as she dived and had found a secure purchase on the ropes of the canyon's bridge. The momentum had been wild, and Theresa had clutched onto her heroine for dear life as they swung from underneath the bridge before finally coming to a stop. Pablo's accomplice had long met a grisly end.

"HELP ME!" yelled the vigilante to the amazed sergeant, who quickly made it to the spot on the bridge where they were hanging. He carefully reached out for the Queen's rope, ignored his taunting injuries and used all the strength he had left to haul his daughter and ally back up to safety. The Queen relaxed her body to ease the load. Still cradling the frightened Theresa, the Avenging Angel soothed, "Just hang on, okay. Don't move around."

Williams tangled all the rope he'd pulled, tying it to the ropes of the bridge to secure them. The masked Tessa grabbed one of the bridge's side ropes to stop herself falling and then handed the girl to her father, who safely hoisted her over onto firm footing.

"Run over to the road, Theresa!" ordered Lionel, urgently. "Go to the middle and stay there!"

Theresa did what she was told, then the Golden Sergeant held her hand out to the Queen of Swords without even thinking. The vigilante instantly took it and Williams helped her over to safety.

The Queen and Lionel panted for air. And now looked at each other with completely different eyes after everything they'd gone through. The vigilante untied the rope from her waist to free herself, still surveying the Sergeant and vice versa.

Their feelings mirroring the other.

"Daddy!" The cry of Williams' child snapped him out of his trance.

"Theresa!" he cried and ran off the bridge back onto hard ground. He lifted up his little girl high into the air and span her round and round, making her laugh. Lionel then drew her close to his body and fell to his knees, hugging her tighter than ever.

"Good girl…good girl," he nodded, weeping his joy. "You're safe now. You're safe."

The Queen, having untangled and rounded her rope and hook, smiled warmly as she went over to Chico to hang it on his saddle. She then looked up to see Maria riding on a horse of her own towards them. She stopped and dismounted, joining the family reunion. They all hugged each other tightly, never ever wanting to let go.

When they had to, Maria looked to her badly injured husband and said, "We've got to get you to Doctor Helm."

"I can wait," he nodded tiredly. "Are you alright? Did you get help?"

"I'm fine. I found Marco. He and our friends will be here shortly."

Theresa was staring at the Queen of Swords, who was still smiling at the Williams family. Theresa then broke into a big grin and ran up to throw her arms round her hero, which surprised the vigilante.

Lionel and Maria turned to see the masked Tessa, with full acceptance and gratitude. The vigilante smiled again and knelt down to return the hug.

"Thank you," said Theresa happily.

"You're very welcome, Theresa," said the Queen proudly. "You're a very brave girl. Just like your father."

The seven-year-old looked at the masked woman, confused.

"Well, he's not a girl…but you know what I mean."

Maria found herself letting out a little laugh. The surprised Lionel couldn't help but laugh, too. The Queen nodded Theresa back in the direction of her mother and she obliged as her content father walked over to the vigilante, who got up to her feet.

"That's a very handy piece of equipment you have there," remarked Williams, nodding over to the rope and hook coiled on Chico's saddle. "You must be either very rich, or know the right people."

The vigilante cocked her head to the side, gave an impressed smile and simply remarked, "Yes." She felt as though the sergeant was entitled to a bone for his educated guesses. Williams looked around, giving a tired smile and said, "You know what I really hate about deserts? All this _sand_. Always getting in your eyes, stopping you from _seeing things_…_apprehending bandits_…"

"I hate that, too," she nodded, fully understanding what he meant.

"They're gonna be here in a few minutes. You'd better go."

The masked Tessa's face then went serious and she asked, "Are you _sure_?"

"No different than helping the Duke of Wellington rid the world of the Napoleon menace," declared Williams resolutely.

"Is that a _compliment_ from you, sergeant?" grinned the Queen, somewhat flattered.

"Yes, it is, kid. Because you've _earned _it."

The Queen's smile became more touched upon hearing that. She nodded her thanks and turned to mount her horse. Williams smiled warmly, clutching his side as his wife and child came up to him. Maria let a tear of joy fall and then smiled, "I'm so sorry about before. And _thank you_."

"You don't have to apologise or thank me, Maria," dismissed the Queen of Swords, mounted and ready to go. She then assured her friend with a smile, "You never do."

And the vigilante rode away, with her number one fan waving, "Bye!" and her parents making their silent reconciliation. As the sunrise heralded what was now sure to be a very good day.

* * *

><p>Two days later, Sergeant Lionel Williams was out of uniform and dressed in his suit. A navy blue coat with gold epaulets, embroidered red and gold patterns on giant sleeves and collars, gold cufflinks, a scarlet waistcoat, white shirt, cream pants with gold and red stripes down the sides and polished black shoes. He stood up straight with his hands clasped behind his back, in Montoya's office no less.<p>

"I am glad to hear of your family's safety, Williams," confessed the governor smiling. "What a tragedy it would have been had your wife or daughter been murdered by these animals."

"Indeed, sir," nodded Lionel. "I am most thankful to God. Among others."

"As you should. You are most fortunate to have such loyal men at your disposal. Such a shame that loyalty does not transfer so well over to _my _jurisdiction."

"Kinks that can be ironed out in due time, colonel. My presence _has _had a big impact on crime and the effectiveness of your force."

"True enough," conceded Montoya, walking over to the American. "But _obedience _is the biggest issue. I trust you will take that into consideration upon your return to active duty."

"Of course, sir," assured William professionally. "Doctor Helm says I am healing nicely from the injuries I sustained. And my rest has been most beneficial. I should have a clean bill of health by Monday."

The colonel's eyes narrowed warningly, "My sergeants generally lick their wounds in time to resume service _much _sooner, Williams."

"Surely a man with such expert hindsight can respect that my best work entitles me to such recognition," flattered the Golden Sergeant. "Besides, there are other issues that need dealing with before I can resume active duty."

Montoya stared for a moment and then rose a sly smile.

"Ah, yes. The status report for the Spanish Court."

"I _have _been sent to unearth the appalling corruption here, after all," reminded Williams respectfully. "They must know of the rogue soldiers who murder and pillage."

"Indeed," Montoya mused as he turned back to the report that the sergeant had laid on his desk. He picked it up again to flicker through the pages, keeping his back turned on Williams.

"Pablo said he was acting on your orders, sir," reported Lionel truthfully. Montoya turned round and calmly replied, "So I have been informed. Surely you cannot believe such a wild accusation to be true?"

Williams gave a sly smile of his own and answered back, "Who would _ever_ believe the word of a psychopath, colonel? And a _dead_ one at that?"

The governor chuckled, "Indeed. Pablo's men are now also off the streets, further exorcising this cancerous corruption. Clencho's violent resisting of arrest, obviously made him an accomplice. His execution will bring no harm to anyone."

_How convenient that he won't speak against you, _thought Williams to himself. _All loose ends tied up._

"This report is…mostly satisfactory, sergeant," nodded the governor. "It accurately details the rate of crime and how corruption has somehow managed to infiltrate the army here. But I do have some issues which I feel will need revising."

"Such as?"

"You have detailed little to nothing about the Bandit Queen. She is the biggest scourge of San. Helena and she has been overlooked. Is there a reason for this?"

"Yes, sir. Not enough information to draw an accurate assessment."

"Surely a man with such appreciation for facts and reports can provide more for his superiors?"

"Are we talking about the actual Queen, sir?" asked Williams. "Or impersonators and false accusations?"

Montoya cast him a sinister look, making Williams give a professional response.

"Simply an honest question, colonel."

"Very well," nodded the governor, refusing to rise to debate. "We shall leave that matter alone for now. I am satisfied with your appraisals of myself and Captain Grisham. _Very _impartial indeed. However, is it really necessary to emphasis such details like the number of breakouts, the plaguing corruption we hadn't noticed until now…and the executions of lawbreakers without trial?"

"Corruption and crime can never be overlooked, sir. It must be reported and dealt with immediate effectiveness. That is why I've personally suggested the troops I brought with me from Spain to be reassigned in my platoon to help achieve this."

"That will be taken into due consideration," downplayed Montoya, placing the report back down on his desk. He smiled at Williams again, asking, "I will hang onto this to review one more time before submitting to the Royal Court. I trust you have no objection?"

"Of course not, sir. I have copies. And I sent one back to Spain already as per their orders. It should be with them by tomorrow morning." Montoya's face masked his fury very well as he glared into Williams' soul, who furthered, "I apologise for lack of communication. It was an honest slip-up, made understandable by the traumatic events I've recently experienced. The Royal Court will be pleased by this obedience. Besides…it's not as though you have anything to _worry _about. Nothing to _hide_. Nothing to _fear_. Do you, Colonel Montoya?"

The governor ominously approached the indifferent American, let him see the silent venom in his eyes for several seconds before answering back, "Not at all, Sergeant Williams. _I_ have absolutely nothing to fear. Or _lose_."

The tense silence lasted for a few moments before Williams broke it by smiling, "Will that be all, colonel?"

"Yes, sergeant. You are dismissed. Enjoy yourself until Monday."

Williams saluted and then made for the door. He was about to touch the handle when Montoya called back, "My congratulations on all your excellent work _are_ sincere, Williams. But be forewarned. All these victories only make you a bigger target to the evils of this town."

Williams fought a chuckle and replied, "Your concern is appreciated, but unnecessary. After all…I survived _Napoleon_. I can - and _will _- survive all the _lesser beings_."

The Golden Sergeant left the ruthless Colonel's office. Montoya's eyes remained determined and conniving as he said to himself, "We shall see in due time who the lesser beings _really_ are, Williams."

* * *

><p>Outside in the Main Square, the fiesta was bustling with happiness and celebration. The streets were decorated with colourful banners, streamers and flowers. A great band with violins, castanets and Spanish guitars were playing in the Rose Courtyard, with Dons and their wives practising dancing for the upcoming flamenco competition to determine which couple would donate the funds for the charity case of their choice.<p>

Delicious food stalls were open and run by the peasants to earn money for their own causes, cakes and fine wines were for sale, and lovely sizzling roast meats were on the spit. The families were enjoying all the games on offer, most of the Dons were playing a high-stakes card game, with a tense moment between Dons Ricardo and Philippe, the final two players left who were smiling playfully as they both sought to outwit the other.

"Runner's up prize is good enough for the Anguilla family, Ricardo," chuckled Philippe, grinning over his hand. "They'll _still _be able to rebuild their barn and house."

"If you feel that way, Philippe," Ricardo smiled back, equally confident, "why don't you face the music and give the Davilos what you've got?"

"Their son deserves more than expensive treatment in Monterey. He deserves a holiday after everything he's gone through. And I'm going to give it to him!"

"Good luck, my friend!"

Elsewhere, Tessa and Marta smiled and laughed as they saw all the wonderful costumes and fancy dress outfits go by. They were very impressive indeed, and Tessa was indeed looking forward to the judging later on. She and Marta were at the remnant clothing & fabrics stall which a smiling Susana Evita was running. Marta had just purchased some beautiful red velvet which she thought might look good as a new waist scarf for the Queen.

"All these people buying!" beamed Susana. "If it's not for the fancy dress, it's for the flamenco competition! All this money, these satisfied customers! I'll be able to open up a new shop!"

"You deserve it, Susana," smiled Tessa happily, excited about the new dress material in her basket.

"I don't know how I can thank you, senorita."

"Just enjoy the day," said Tessa, hugging the widow. "And reap the happiness wherever you can find it."

Tessa and Marta said their goodbyes and moved away to another part of the pueblo. They looked up ahead to see Maria and Doctor Helm trying some of the roast meats Lucia Garcia had had on the spit. Between smiles, she was playfully yelling at her brothers to hurry up with serving those sausage meats to the eager customers. Both of them looked happier than they'd been for weeks as they continued to serve and take the money.

"That is so tasty, Lucia!" appreciated Mrs Williams, licking her lips after she'd finished her share. "No way it would've been this good if Montoya had taken the farm!"

Lucia giggled and shook her head in disbelief. "All the Dons recommending our farm and produce! My papa's land will surely be ours officially after today! Thank you, Mrs Williams."

"I just helped, Lucia," smiled Maria. "It was all down to you. You saved your family's world. _You_. Well done, kid."

Maria gave the twenty-one year old a big hug, and Doctor Helm smiled and put his plate down.

"Thank you, Lucia. That was excellent."

"Gracias, doctor," she nodded. Turning to her next customer, she said, "One side of roast chicken coming up, sir. Beto, unpack more of the cheeses for tasting, please!"

"Maria! Doctor!"

"Tessa! Marta!"

"Senoritas," greeted Helm as Mrs Williams gave her friends a hug. The foursome walked off together to enjoy another part of the fiesta.

"Is Theresa having a good time?" asked Tessa.

"Oh, you would not believe it! When I went to the schoolyard, I couldn't even prise that stick off her hands! She's so determined to hit that piñata! And of course she's having too much fun playing those other games and telling all her friends about the Queen of Swords saving her life."

"Yes, many people just can't stop talking about her. Or things in general," smirked Doctor Helm in Tessa's direction. The aristocrat just smiled and raised her eyebrows at him, implying innocently that she had no idea what he meant by that remark.

"Dinner tomorrow evening will be excellent," smiled Marta, looking forward to the Williams coming over to the hacienda. "Now that we _finally_ have that wine."

"Okay, I have a brain that's easily scattered! So sue me!" laughed Maria. Marta giggled back. Tessa then asked, "So how do you feel about the Queen of Swords now, Maria? Surely nothing _ugly _is hiding behind that mask. From what I've seen and heard, _some _people think there's nothing but _beautiful _intentions."

Doctor Helm simply blew out an amused puff and smirked over the blatant cheap shot from Senorita Alvarado.

"Well, don't get me wrong, Tessa," shrugged Maria, running her hand through her long ginger hair. "I _like_ her. But she can never be my _hero _exactly."

"Oh?"

"Nope. I already have a hero. And he's coming towards us right now."

They all looked to see Lionel smiling and greeting the happy people and shaking hands with the Dons that passed him by. He continued to walk and saw his wife, who grinned and threw his arms round him.

"Ow! Easy, darling! My shoulder! My side!"

"You big baby!" laughed Maria, as she pulled apart a little from her smiling husband and then gave him a little kiss.

"Senorita Alvarado. Marta," Lionel greeted the smiling ladies. He turned to Helm and nodded, "Doctor."

"Sergeant," Helm nodded back respectfully. "How are you healing?"

"Well enough. Thanks to you."

Robert considered this momentarily and then turned to Tessa and Marta, aptly changing the subject by saying, "The wine-tasting competition is starting soon. I'm due to partake. Ladies."

"Doctor," nodded Tessa. Helm gave his goodbyes to Lionel and Maria and then left. Tessa shook her head slightly and rolled her eyes upward.

_Typical stubborn Englishman, _the noblewoman thought. _Oh, well._

"How's Theresa?" Lionel asked his wife.

"Just about having the time of her life," she smiled. "We'll drop by the playground next."

"Maria told us that it was the Queen who helped save the day," came in Marta.

"It must have been so exciting for Theresa," suggested Tessa, putting on her naïve demeanour, which didn't fool the Williams couple. "Maria says she looks nice under that mask…"

"Uh…" Mrs Williams laughed, scratching her head.

"So what's _your _verdict, Sergeant? As a soldier trying to capture a masked outlaw?"

Lionel put on a smile, raised an eyebrow and - picking his words carefully - he replied, "My apologies, Tessa. That's classified, military business."

"Of course," she grinned, dizzily.

"But just between us…" he explained lowering his head to the senorita's ear, "there are times in life where it's really nice to be proven wrong."

Tessa couldn't help but betray a fond smile. Marta also smiled in delight.

"Come on, you!" grinned Maria, pulling her husband by the hand, making him cry a little over his lingering injuries. "We check on Theresa, and then _we _are going to the courtyard! Got to get some last minute practice in the for the dancing competition!"

"Sweetheart!" laughed Lionel as his spouse dragged him away from the chuckling Tessa and Marta.

"No 'buts!' Let's show these Californians, Spaniards and Mexicans what we Americans can do! Tessa! See you on the dance floor!"

"Bye, Maria!" laughed Senorita Alvarado happily. She and her servant then moved on.

"The Golden Sergeant is right, Marta."

"Oh?"

"It _is _nice to be proven wrong sometimes."

"And for the heart of an enemy to be that of a friend?"

"I'm sure Lionel feels the same way."

"And do you feel relief?" asked the Gypsy. "That the transitional death of _Pablo _was the one that brought you and the Golden Sergeant together?"

"You've no idea," grinned the aristocrat in relief.

"Just one mystery left then."

"Oh?"

"Why _did _you invite the sergeant to dinner tomorrow night?"

"Simple," explained Tessa, having long figured it out. She waited for Marta to press her for the answer, before saying, "Celebrating everything. It's _fiesta _weekend."

The two friends smiled and laughed as they made their way to the Rose Courtyard.

**END OF ARC 1**


End file.
